Rose Of Death Novels & Stories

“What for? She's done nothing wrong.” “I don't know what for, but she was said to be the Rose.” “The Rose?” Blaze knitted his brows. “I'm confused here.” “Well, I am as well.” Sandro retorted. The Rose was the key to the establishment of the Rosette dynasty. She was a treasure and through her, they could get a lot of things. Aside from that, it was said that she was a shield and no supernatural being could penetrate her mind, no matter how hard they tried. And her blood could create armies of extremely powerful hybrids when used with the werewolves' blood. Also, it contains healing properties.

There, the bags of money sat. His money. Tobias threw his head back. Now, the water have been sucked completely by the ground. The ground is dry. He went down and lay on his back in the middle of the ten bodies. His gun lay beside him as he let out a chilly, wrong laughter. "Thou shalt not kill, but I'm not Thou. I'm Wrath, The Black Rose." He uttered, shutting his eyes and inhaling the thick smell of blood. "Long Live Odium."

Alexander shuts his eyes, trying to block out the memory of her fighting to the death to protect them. "—but it was just a fluke. Those damn Roses and their explosives; it's as if they think they're military or something. Who ever heard of the mafia using bombs? It's simply not stylish," Rolf continues. "Well, it's clear they don't care much about style," Alexander replies, recalling the young woman they encountered, who had begged for help and drawn their attention. When they were distracted by her, the Roses began shooting, and she got caught in the crossfire. He shakes his head, determined to dislodge the thought. If he dwells too long on the horrific things he's witnessed, he fears he mi

“I know but I also know I’m not wrong.” She explained that Cohen’s mating bond was reconstructing in his mind, the white roses appeared on Mira’s grave and the unnamed tombstone. When someone was resurrected from the dead, white roses was the first sign of such an event because white roses were the sign of a new start. Resurrecting a dead person also meant it was a new start for that person.

I turned to see my mother collapsed against Jason. I helped him lift her up and the look of terror on her face is something I will never forget. “We need to go. Now.” Was all she said. Jason and I put her arms over our shoulders and walked her out of the stadium to the car. I turned to look back and honest to the Goddess I wish I never had. There, in front of the crowd stood Alpha Austin beating his chest holding something high for the crowd to see. I swallowed the bike that rose in my throat as recognition hit me. Hanging in his outstretched hand by the hair was my father’s head.

Ten years ago, I brought my distant cousin Sofia to New York after finding her cornered by her stepfather's creditors in an old Sicilian port. I taught her English, etiquette, and the laws of our world. I even introduced her to my fiancé, Alessandro Moretti. On the eve of our wedding, I found a secure family thread on my brother's computer—a thread that excluded me. My mother had written, "Sofia is pregnant. Are you really going through with tomorrow's wedding?" Alessandro replied, "The legal marriage is hers. The ceremony and the Moretti name will be Isabella's." That was when I learned they’d already gotten legally married. Our wedding was meant to seal a truce between two Mafia families a

Koa whispered, staring into space before looking back at Rosalie, who stared back at him with the blankest expression he’s ever seen. “I’m sorry,” he said as Rosalie tilted her head, “Sorry is not going to bring them back,” she simply said as Koa shook his head, “Then tell me what I can do,” he pleaded, guilt-eating him up on the inside, “You might want to come closer, my throat is getting sore,” she said, getting a nod in response before Koa leaned forward so that Rosalie’s lips touched his ear, “A life for a life,” she whispered before swiftly slitting his throat, earning a gasp before he stumbled back, holding his neck that flowed with non-stop streams of blood. Koa’s widened eyes connect

--- "The world doesn't change when swords clash or gates are torn open. It changes when someone who has lost every reason to hope still reaches out a hand. When a demon seeks not to destroy, but to remember. When a girl no longer fears who she truly is. Damnation does not always arrive in fire. Sometimes, it hides beneath the petal of a white rose. And if we are brave enough to see ourselves within it... then perhaps, even in the deepest darkness, a future can be born."

Like I had the power of life and death. The third one, however, I did not allow to burn entirely but only the edge of the petals. Half red and half black. Roses on fire. Suddenly, I let out a hysterical laugh until my cousin walked into the office, perhaps brought on by the smell or even my outbursts. “What the hell are you doing, Rick?” “Killing them!” I replied, keeping my fanatical grin on my face. “Killing roses…” he repeated as he approached. “You okay, bro?”

Joanna was worried about losing her wealthy boyfriend, so every day she changed her tricks. One day, Jeffrey had a hangover and had just returned home when he received a call from Joanna. The woman on the other end of the phone had a gentle voice, just as he liked it in the past. "Jeffrey, something happened in the rose garden." Jeffrey became sober at once. "What happened?" Joanna paused for a moment, trying to be mysterious. "I saw the roses growing green leaves, are they going to bloom?" Jeffrey got up and jumped up and down to get there.