Oh For A Muse Of Fire Novels & Stories

he explained, “But a musician has a unique Muse inside of them, whether it be classical, rock, or a mixture of both.” I tapped my foot, “And a Muse is similar to a god or goddess?” “Yup,” Onyx nodded. I tilted my head, “And Apollo can communicate with them?” “Of course not,” he sat on the floor, “I’m more of a… guide.” I frowned, “So you led that voice to me?” “Yes,” he admitted, “Because you needed him.” Onyx played with her dress ribbon, “What all do you remember?” “I remember being upset with my parents before I went on stage,” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, “Then as I was playing, I saw Apollo’s flute… the next thing I know I’m floating.”

A pit of very dangerous substance that could be the death of anyone who is a fool enough to go inside. "Wait," I turned to Lucia and Orion when I remembered something. "Have you forgotten that only the person who could manipulate fire can infiltrate the River of Flames? How can you two come with me, then?" "You are the Mistress of Fire, Ophelia. You should be able to control the fire so that it won't hurt any of us." "I don't think I can do that. As what I have told you, I haven't mastered this ability yet so there is no guarantee that whatever I would do is the right thing. Maybe you should just wait here while I go inside—"

before sliding down my body and attacking my overly sensitive cunt with his hot wet mouth. I shiver beneath, writhing like a flower petal. His tongue curls inside me like a guitarist playing the strings of his guitar. He clams down on my clit and I scream out my orgasm. He swims up and swallows my screams in a hot searing kiss. "Your gift is right behind the door at the right corner of this room. Don't get lost in it." His voice fills my brain, his hot breath fans my moist lips. I say nothing in response. In a blink of my eye, he's up and by the door. His bun is loose and now his hair falls to the sides of his face, caging it in. This way, he looks like Lucifer before he became the devil.

“Feel it fully. Every tremor, every gasp, every shiver—it is proof of your awakening. You are mine, and the fire is ours.” Ariella’s hands tangled in his hair as he pressed against her, hips brushing hers in a rhythmic, molten dance. The fire beneath the crystal floor seemed to respond, coiling around them, amplifying every sensation, echoing the heat between them. Waves of pleasure and power coursed through her, spiraling, coiling, igniting every nerve with a fire that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

For every fear that pops into your mind, my hands make it a reality. Flames of blue, red and white, hot enough to melt any earthly metal sweeps across my nails. The fire jumps from side to side as if hell’s small doe jumping through the ominous forest. One touch could make you feel pain for weeks, yet to me, it is my sweet burn of menthol across my chest. Breathing deeply, smelling your skin crisp under me that everyone here deserved, fuels my lust for destruction.

Mira’s hand is outstretched, eyes huge and pleading, “Please, please, don’t—” She wants to run back, wants to be brave and gentle and everything they need. But a howl splits the air. Something crashes through the brush. Survive, survive, survive. Desperation boils up. Magic thrums at her fingertips—hot, dangerous, panicked. She raises her hands, blue fire coiling and sparking from her palms. She lets it loose. It tears from her—rage, grief, terror made into living flame. The blue fire erupts, racing along the wet earth, igniting roots and leaves, hunger without mercy. It swallows the edge of the clearing, surges toward the mob—toward the coven too.

The fire did not ask her to kneel. It bowed. She stepped onto the pedestal. The twin flames rose higher. Wrapped around her in spirals. The wind roared through the open walls. And every wolf in the valley howled. Not in fear. Not in loyalty. In recognition. The land remembered. The gods stirred. And the sky, The sky bled red. Mourne stood at the entrance, eyes wide. “She’s not taking the throne,” he whispered. “She’s changing it.” The fire split one last time.

Austin and I hadn't talked for days. I hurriedly made my way to the wooden hut. As soon as I opened the door, the familiar figure I'd been yearning for days appeared before me. I heard a loud thump of my heart banging against my ribcage. "I want to claim my prize." Then, Austin closed the distance between us with just one long stride. He held my head in his hands and kissed me deeply. His kisses were hot and passionate. He was as hungry as a wolf that had been starving for days. His eyes were like a whirlpool oozing with honey as they drew me into the vortex.

EZRA The spell Melucia had chanted as fire consumed her whole still rang in my brain, a curse etched into the very marrow of my bones. “By the flames that take my flesh, I rise anew from fire’s breath. Your hate shall feed my wrath untamed, In death, I live, your souls I claim. As I burn, so shall you, From this pyre, my power grew. The smoke you breathe, the ash you tread, I will return, the unforgiven dead.

Ceres (softly): "And you're one of those voices, Nya. You're what they couldn't chain." Nya places a hand over her own heart. A warm glow pulses once, then fades. Nya: "I don't want to be their flame. I want to be the one who remembers what it was." Ceres (smiling faintly): "Then remember with me. Together, maybe we'll show them that fire doesn't just destroy. It reveals." A Different Future