Red Rose With Thorns Novels & Stories

I lifted the lid. Inside, on a bed of black silk, was a single, perfect red rose. But it was wrong. It was too red, too alive. Its thorns were long and sharp, and from their tips, thick drops of dark red liquid fell slowly, like blood, but they never hit the bottom of the box. They vanished into mist before they touched the silk. And it was… singing.

I tugged my collar aside—and froze. There, vivid and unmistakable, was a black-and-red rose mark blooming across my skin. The petals were a dark, bloody velvet, ringed with razor-sharp black thorns that looked like they were sinking into my chest—curling toward my heart like a death grip. It spread all the way to my chest, almost touching the edge of my nipples, as if it were some kind of dangerous warning. My cheeks flushed hot with a mixture of rage and shame.

Lyra stared at the white rose like it might bite her. It was delicate, perfect—each petal unmarred, impossibly pure. And yet it was more chilling than any blood-soaked weapon. She’d been trained to track monsters, to fight with blade and claw, but no one had ever prepared her for this. A Thornwyn rose. A symbol of possession. A claim. Her fingers trembled as she snatched the folded parchment tucked behind the stem. The seal broke with a soft crack—the Thornwyn crest etched in crimson wax, pressed like a threat into the aged paper.

Cecilia rose to her feet. Her usual cool and aloof demeanor showed, but her eyes betrayed a hint of defiant tears. She snatched the lemon juice from Holly's arms, ready to down it in one go. Luke quickly moved, panic written all over him, "No, don't drink that. You can't drink cold drinks." He turned back, shooting Holly a glare that could freeze fire. It was the first time he had ever looked at her with such annoyance and revulsion.

"Luna Silva? That’s just a wild, silver-veined variant of wild mint. I found it growing near the creek three weeks ago. It’s harmless." "It isn't mint," Francis snapped, his jaw tightening. "It’s a catalyst. To a human, it’s a herb. To a wolf, it acts like a signal fire on a pitch-black night. It amplifies your natural scent, makes it intoxicating. This rogue found you first because he was desperate, but he won't be the last. The moment I step out of this doorway, another one will come through that window to tear you apart."

I traced the hand holding the gun, and my sight met that of the pair of eyes that'll forever hunt me. They were bloodred eyes!

"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.

Holloway, standing discreetly behind a display of tulips, had to cover a smile. Finally, Amara took pity on him. She slipped her hand into his and tugged him closer to a table covered in deep crimson roses and delicate white gardenias. “These,” she said softly. “Red for love. White for new beginnings.” Rafael stared down at the flowers like they might bite him. Then he looked at her. At the way her eyes shone with excitement. At the way her fingers lingered on the petals, so gentle, so sure. “Alright,” he said roughly. “Whatever you want, bella.”

"But now, the choice is between guilt or death." His gaze shifted to the rose she was holding. The petals had turned to ash, leaving only the thorny stem in her hand. “No,” she whispered. “I want to leave.” Vincent nodded. “You carried the rose. That binds you. That marks you.” “So?” she asked barely audibly. “What does that mean?” He didn't respond. Amid the silence, the stem glowed red, broke in two, and was crushed to dust. Blood flowed from her palm, where the thorn had stung her skin.

Positioning myself and breaking the door using my force, causing a loud sound and the door breaking open. I couldn't process anything in my head as my legs took me towards a man straddling Rose. She was not someone to straddle and take advantage of. I saw a knife and I rip him off her punching him square in his face and holding his throat just like he did to her. I saw the man and a girl running to Rose to help her as one of them call 911.