Poisonous Rose Novels & Stories

The waterfall roared louder than usual, but a rancid smell overpowered the usual scent of roses. Rogues were waiting for her, not Xavier. One of them was the unkempt man from the market. Rose readied herself, then she felt him. Xavier, running flat out, drawn by the bond. He burst into the clearing, eyes blazing. “Rose, run!” “No, we fight together.” Then the wild roses moved like a living thing. They had always grown thick here, but tonight they came alive. Vines wrapped her ankles, thorns gentle against her skin, petals brushing her face.

The villainess. The plot of *The Prince's Rose* crashed over her. Prince Alexander, the golden-haired, stoic heir, destined to fall for Sophia Bellweather, the kind-hearted, orphaned daughter of a minor baron. And Lady Vivian? The Duke’s spoiled, ruthless daughter, obsessed with Alexander, engaged to him through political maneuvering. She would stop at nothing to eliminate Sophia – slander, sabotage, even attempted murder. Her actions would ultimately lead to her public disgrace, her engagement broken, her family ruined, and her exile to a desolate convent… before a mysterious, fatal "accident" befell her carriage on the journey. The readers had cheered at her downfall.

Pierce examined the faces with utmost caution and observed each micro-expression. Eleanor's eyes went wide, her mouth forming a perfect O shape of disbelief. Harold's jaw shifted as if he had a bitter pill to swallow. "Poison?" Harold's voice cracked. "That's. That's impossible. How could Rosa be poisoned?" "That's what we want to know." It came to them in the form of Pierce walking up to them with hands clasped behind him to conceal the shaking. "The doctors discovered traces of oleander in her system. Interesting choice. You know oleander causes miscarriage?"

From the glow rose a single spark that drifted upward, caught in the wind, and vanished into the clouds. A signal. “Let the packs see it,” I whispered. “Let them know the moon bleeds again.” Varyn’s men moved to the edges of the ruin, lighting torches, feeding them to the storm. The smoke curled crimson, thick and deliberate, rising into the gray sky. Far away, I knew, he would see it Ares in his fortress, watching the same smoke climb the horizon like a scar. I turned my face toward the forest, where the goddess’s silver still slept.

Bianca was sold to a mafia lord at a very young age and all she could think about was getting revenge. Her plan was going well until the mafia lord's son, Nico, came into the picture. Nico was handsome and cold, brutal but calm. However, when he met Bianca, she brought out his troubled side. He didn't want her. She didn't care. In fact, she hated him. She felt he was emotionless and he felt she was too tough. Both were intrigued. ~♡~ "The only thing stopping me from taking you right here on this table, is that you belong to my father." His voice was tensed and I didn't need to see his face to know how he felt. "My father's whore." He added. I swallowed, hurt by his words. "You

"She deserved it! She was so terrified with the rabid dogs barking all around her, even sending a voice message where she was crying so pathetically!" Hearing that, my departed soul turned away, smiling miserably. He was the one who had said he loved me, promising to protect me for the rest of my life and vowing that no one would get to lay a finger on me. He had smiled at me so lovingly when he passed me the black rose seeds. "It is believed that black roses embody a deep and timeless love, just like the love I share with you." Yet, he had a change of heart and loved Lara instead, believing her one-sided claims that I had led a workplace ostracising campaign against her.

There changed into an unmarried flowers blooming withinside the nook of the flower mattress. The flower changed into conspicuously one of a kind from the opposite plants, remoted in a nook, its red petals reputedly toxic. Greatly alarmed, Isabella changed into looking at this bell-fashioned flower. "Wait a minute... You do not say... Could it be this very... Thing earlier than our eyes!?" "Correct... I by no means predicted to discover it right here." A flower whose poison posed a hazard even to vampires. Passed down because of historic instances, the toxic flower of death. Isabella's vivid crimson lips slowly uttered its name.

I thank God the dress is braless because when I notice her perky dusty rose nipples calling out to me, I don't waste time. "Crescent." she moans lowly. That is a switch to something so carnal deep within me. I ravage her nipples and breasts like a starved man. Satisfied by my work on her breasts, I trace a finger down her torso while I kiss her. I am not surprised to find her wet and ready.

The only thing she actually admired about the display was the object hanging securely on the wall, proudly standing out amongst the pictures aligning the walls with fond memories, the simple center piece of the room that drew it all together. It was the beautiful rose painting that Chris had found stored away in the closet beside the stairs. Lifting up her hand, the brunette gently brushed away the dust that had collected on its oak frame, the specks of gray fluttering past her vision. Alina still didn't have a clue where it had come from, but she had to admit, upon closer inspection, that it definitely had a certain appeal to it. Floating in the middle of a black lake with realistic ripples

Now he was not a mate alone, he was a king, the best king magical world ever got. The environment of the packhouse seemed tense. Abner and and my gamma, Ivan was helping those distressed pack member to feel relief. Pack doctors had been busy all the time. I noticed Ven clenched her jaw while her hand tangled into a tight fist. "Alpha, I think someone spread poisons in air. Maybe it was our rival pack." A pack doctor said, "We have detected some Oleander in the air though it was faint. If it was intense, the whole pack would have died till now."