Slow Burn Novels & Stories

Bullets exploded against the basalt rocks, scattering glowing, burning shrapnel through the rain like toxic sparks. My own massive body was vibrating with a deep, agonizing, systemic pain. Normally, a gunshot or a deep sword laceration would knit closed in a matter of seconds. But the constant, heavy spray of aerosolized silver particles in the air was aggressively choking my supernatural healing factor. The dozens of small cuts across my arms and torso were literally sizzling, smoking with a pale, sickly mist as the heavy metal violently fought against my pure-blooded genetics. "We are burning from the inside out, Kaelen," my inner wolf whimpered.

she said firmly, her voice taking a chastising tone. "No, this is exactly the time," I interjected stubbornly. "I saw fire today. Once you light a fire, it has to burn and it doesn't care if this is the time or place. Fire either burns brightly or it fizzles into nothingness and smoke. Without the fire, there is no light. So, are you two burning or fizzling?" I demanded. I wanted an answer. Andrew looked at me, and I shrugged. I might be confused from the drugs, but it had sounded poetic in my head.

why does my flame keep getting higher and it feels like I'm burning within dangerous desire? T O B E C O N T I N U E D...

These were the people I loved the most besides my children and they were hurting. “Burn,” Death said to me and it started all over again. The never-ending flames of torture was inside my soul. I was losing my mind, feeling like the torture would never end. I was going to burn for an eternity. It was enough to bring me to the brink of insanity, an insanity where the pain was amplified.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I slip my feet into my warm slippers and put on my robe. I begin filling my bathtub. I move at my own pace. I understand how furious he would be if I were to be one minute late. However, he currently lacks any control over me. I’m no longer his wife. I continue to add the extra lavender oil that Noah really enjoys. I’ve already poured it before I realize what I’m doing. Will I ever recover?

Flashback The hostel was quiet in the way it always was after lights out , not completely silent, just softened. Pages turned. Someone shifted in their sleep. Aria sat on her bed with her books open, highlighter resting uselessly across a paragraph she’d read three times without absorbing. Outside, rain traced thin lines down the window, steady and unhurried. Her phone buzzed. A text from Damien. --It’s raining, Come on… let me make your slow-dancing dreams come true.--

Inside, it was choked with dust. "Don't worry, Connor," one of his friends had told him during a conversation Samantha had overheard. "We've already set up the timed incendiary. You just need to lure her in and lock the door from the outside. Once it starts burning, she won't be able to get out. Based on the last fire, wait fifteen minutes, then go in and save her. She won't die—maybe just a few burns. But when she sees you coming through the flames, she'll be so grateful and start crying." Samantha had heard it all. And she was ready to let "Samantha" be buried in this fire for good.

After a moment, Tucker murmured, "Willow always warned me not to stay up too late… and she made sure there was hot soup waiting when I was done. Damn it…" Since I left, his life had spiraled into chaos. Shelby's affection always seemed shallow. It lacked the genuine care and attention I used to give.

I connected my phone and let the screen glow to life. For a while, I just scrolled—Instagram, texts, mindless nothing—filling Jade in on my apparent life sentence one message at a time. Her rapid-fire responses came through in all caps and rage emojis, which only made me snort softly into the quiet room. Eventually, though, the weight of the day caught up to me. My eyes burned. My fingers slowed. The screen blurred as my eyelids drooped lower and lower, each blink lasting a little longer than the last.

That river stayed White ice for hundred years and no fire could drink it. My palms burned again, not from silver net this time, from pushing light into ice that was so cold it tried to eat light back. My moon mark on neck pulsed hot cold hot cold, Jax four lines around me pulsed with it, trying to help, trying to make shield that black smoke could not drink through, but shield was thin and flickering and ice island we stood on was still shrinking even with white veins, because black flame on far bank was growing taller.