Rekindled Home Novels & Stories

Convincing her to rest awhile could provide opportunity for us to speak privately again, gently stoking the embers beginning to glow once more between us. I knew now the spark of our union yet lived. I need only keep faith through these trials to rekindle it into cleansing, glorious flame once more.

I whispered as he shook his head. "Those souls that hate the place they were at when they were human or alive usually refuse to come back; that's the only tricky part. I can only bring back those that are willing and have a very strong will to live again. Their will should be stronger than anything else," I said and then continued to speak.

“Oh that, yes, I change my mind; you should definitely let your old life affect your present,” he said, making Jenna believe that the man was just as clueless as he looked and he was just messing with her, so she took a step back intending to leave.“Wait!” the old man called out, causing her to pause in her tracks.“What do you want?” she asked.“Your enemy, the one you want to run away from, is back,” the old man said, suddenly shedding his earlier playful demeanor; he now had a powerful aura.Jenna, who seemed to know what he was talking about, ran away like someone was pursuing her; she did not stop until she entered her car, and then she started hyperventilating.Did that mean Rio was alive;

Tamara whispered her fear to her best friend through teary eyes. Marco took a step forward and fell to his knees at the base of the bathtub. “Look at me,” he placed his finger under Tamara’s chin. “You’re you. You are still perfect, you just did some things. And that’s okay,” Tamara blinked with tears down her eyes. How could she have contemplated cutting him out of her life? Marco was her backbone. The reason, she was even alive. He had given her a second chance at life. “I’m done with the revenge plan,” Tamara whispered.

The ember floated toward her chest and sank into her skin. --- The Reawakening The world burst into color. Kaela gasped as warmth flooded her veins, her heartbeat syncing with the Flow. The ground beneath her feet shimmered, and for a moment, she could see it — the invisible threads connecting every life, every spark, every act of love and pain. The Flow was alive. And it was waking through her. Visions filled her mind: Lyra’s laughter in the dawn, Kaenor’s hands shaping the first fire,

Flashback The house no longer felt like home. It felt like a memory, something that used to belong to Kiara but had been carefully repainted, rearranged, and rewritten until nothing of her mother’s love and her laughter seemed to live there anymore. Every wall echoed with a version of her she did not recognize. She had bent into Lucinda’s narrative as the cold, distant, and silent daughter. And now, her father believed it completely. It was a Saturday evening when it finally happened. The night the last connection between them snapped.

He gently massaged her back and asked worriedly: “Perhaps you still got sick after the fever the day before yesterday. Please say anything Lady Catherine.” Catherine still couldn't stop crying, she was even more like a scared deer, using all her strength to squeeze her beloved uncle Harry. He is alive. Very good. Everything has come back after life, and she has been reborn as she had wished. Dear God. Thank you for everything

I'm ready to live again. *********************************************

Kian reached out, but she was already kneeling at the edge, staring down. “I’ve done this before,” she whispered. “All of it.” The Luna’s voice rose behind her. “The Third Moon bleeds because you love. If you wish to save him, you must finish what you began—unbind yourself from the ink.” Kian’s hand found hers. His touch burned, real and grounding. “I don’t care what the ink says. We’ll find another way.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “You always say that.” Kian frowned. “What do you mean?”