Six Scorched Roses Audiobook Novels & Stories

Only a faint golden smear of light lingered, then vanished. “Elena, we have to go!” Grayson shouted, pulling at her arm. Damien hauled Rosa up, limping toward the exit. But Elena refused to move, clutching Rose tightly in her arms. “Enoch…” she whispered, her voice raw. Rose stirred weakly, her glow completely gone now. She's just a girl—frightened, fragile, human. “Elena…” she whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I—I heard you. Even when he was inside my head. I heard you.”

"They're trying to preserve their stored experiences, but the blight is too strong." The roses that had once whispered Eleanor's memories now writhed in their beds like living things in torment, their thorns black with supernatural poison. As Iris watched, one of the oldest specimens gave a final, keening cry before collapsing into ash, taking with it decades of carefully preserved moments between Eleanor and Damien.

Suddenly, the smoke shifts, and I see the glass greenhouse at the edge of the cliff. But it isn't beautiful anymore. The thousands of white roses on the floor are dead, turned into black ash. The thousands of candles have melted into pools of liquid wax that look like tears. And standing right in the center of the ruins, under the broken crystal chandelier, is Rosalina.

The chamber still smelled of roses and wine when Rosa left, but to Daphne, the scent had turned to iron. She stood motionless long after the door slammed shut, her pulse roaring in her ears. Her fingers brushed her throat as if to steady her breath, but the air refused to come easily. Rosa’s words replayed again and again—each one slicing deeper than the last. “I am Rosa, daughter of Fatima… and I am here for revenge.” That voice haunted her even in silence.

As I am about to shift us so I can see her face, Rose picks up my hand and kisses my palm. “Just let me get to the bathroom… please? I can’t watch you go. It will break me. Thank you for everything, Tyson. I’ve cherished every second we’ve had together.” Rose says in a whisper, her voice cracking at the end. She quickly gets up and picks up her shirt from the floor and puts it on. She keeps her back to me the whole time and now I see them, her scars. She has large, thick scars on her back that travel down into her shorts. My daze finally clears, and I realize she thinks I’m leaving her. She thinks her story is bad enough to drive me away. “NO! She thinks we don’t want her now, Tyson! Go, go

My hands wrapped around the wolfsbane-coated metal, sizzling heat biting into my skin instantly. “No, you can’t! You will be destroyed!” I roared, the pain searing straight up my arms. The sound of burning flesh filled the air. Marcel flinched—only slightly—but he forced his expression to remain composed. “Aah—” A groan tore from my throat as I stumbled back from the bars. My palms were scorched, but I didn’t look at them. I didn’t care. None of this mattered compared to the danger closing in on Rose… on this entire place.

Cross hissed, ignoring her words as his eyes scanned her body, his mind playing out scenarios that shattered his restraint. Rosa reached for his face, cupping it. "Look at me, Cross. Nothing happened. I started a fire to escape him. You know I would never let him have me. Not when I belong to you." But Cross was spiraling. His emotions raged inside him like a hurricane, tearing through reason. All he could think about was Zod’s hands on her, Zod’s scent covering her body. His hands gripped her waist tightly as he pressed his forehead to hers.

(Squad Leader Agent Rosee @ 01) Squad leader Agent Rosee, didn’t even be able to feel any discomfort, because in the room there is not even a semblance of dead bodies at all, instead in the middle of the room, a pile of blood red meat were piled up. Every living things in the room were shredded to death. After throwing a torn fire magic scrolls at the pile, Agent Rosee went back to do her work on looting everything, and then went ahead and staging the entire assault into a scenario of internal conflict.

He took two down easily, and for a moment, it looked like he had them beat. He looked towards the roses, as if he knew she was there. The rogue from the market took his opportunity, swinging a blade up. It was silver. The sound it made when it sank between Xavier's ribs would live in Rose’s bones forever. Her eyes had met his in horror. “Rose,” he had screamed out in horror. Pack warriors crashed into the clearing seconds later, drawn by the noise. The remaining rogue ran, and the roses released her as suddenly as they had claimed her. She stumbled out, gasping, dress torn.

I didn’t want to destroy the scroll. I wanted Rosa to hand it to me. Beg me to take it. Cry as I ripped it from her hands. \*\* Rosa. She haunted me more than the flame ever did. All that brilliance wrapped in stubbornness and sarcasm. I hated it. And I wanted it. Which made me dangerous. And her? More dangerous still. We struck at dawn. Smoke rising over the eastern ridge. Our shadows moved through fog. No howls. No warnings. Just fire.