Novel & Cerita Smithers X Burns

There was silver burning everywhere. I gritted my teeth and placed my hands on them and grunted as the burning pain shot through me. I pushed with what was remaining of my strength and at first, nothing budged. I kept pushing until the boulders shifted slightly and I crawled out from under them. I stood up on shaky legs and the burns increased. My vision became clouded with pain as I realized in horror that the little space of air that was left was poisoned with burning silver. If I lingered here, I was surely going to die.

Don Bryant, who was standing nearby, asked anxiously, "Is there really nothing else that can be done to save Oliver, Cynthia?" I shook my head, replying calmly, "There's nothing that can be done, Don Bryant. You see, once someone is tainted by a black witch, the damage is irreversible. It's only a matter of time before his life force is completely drained. Your best course is to begin making funeral arrangements for Oliver now, Don Bryant." Having said that, I took William's hand and walked away, deliberately ignoring the heart-rending cries of despair that erupted from Oliver behind us. …

Damien's POV The glass of whiskey burned down my throat, but it did absolutely nothing to calm the rage boiling inside me. I sat alone at the private section of the club with my jacket beside me while loud music echoed around the room. Several women had attempted approaching me since I arrived, but one glare from me was enough to send every single one of them running away. My mind remained occupied with the disaster from earlier. Zachary, the stolen project, Celeste's involvement, and the possibility of betrayal inside my own home.

The heels were resting in my lap like a heavy weight of shame. "If you're not going to wear them," Tucker said sharply, "then give them to Shelby yourself. That can be your apology." He slid the shoes toward me with quiet contempt, as though my hesitation merely proved my ingratitude. "Shelby's always been kind enough to overlook your little games," he added. His tone was sharp and unforgiving. "She won't hold it against you." Those elegant heels now felt like sharp knives digging into my heart. Every burn on my legs throbbed fiercely. They were a brutal reminder of his cruelty.

The new prosthetic limbs integrated perfectly with the human body, allowing them to run and jump just like before. On top of that, the investor who had initially tried to fund Dad's company came back around, ready to back him fully as he rebuilt from the ground up. A few days later, we heard news about Vera. She suffered burns over 99% of her body. Under the constant agony, she was barely conscious. My parents and I silently agreed not to visit her. Vera had made it clear we were not her family, so there was no reason to pretend otherwise. A few months later, my parents' new company went public, and by perfect timing, it hit a booming market. Not only did they repay all their debts, but they

"I… I didn't know!" "Declan," I said evenly, "if you order your warriors to stop the men carrying the stretcher, it might not be too late." But before he could react, one of the warriors came running back, panting. "Alpha! As ordered, the body was thrown into the incinerator at the waste plant for fuel." He straightened, almost proud. "I even waited until she was completely reduced to ash before returning to report." Declan's knees gave out. He hit the floor.

NEVER IN YOUR LIFE Sire, the father of Justin has had quite the life. He and his two friends turned to worse enemies have had a story worthy life that they all would rather that they forget but there's a danger that's lurking so close to them that they can't ignore what happened then because it might help them find their way out of the troubles ahead. This is the start of the life of Sire, Mona and Mury. Three former friends known as three flames that burnt so bright that they could shine even the darkest places.

The smoke in the server room was getting thicker by the second, making my eyes burn and my throat raw. Bullets continued to tear through the metal cabinets, filling the pitch-black space with loud bangs and flying sparks. Julian was keeping the gunman occupied, but I could hear from the heavy pattern of fire that he was running low on ammunition.

she demanded. I bit the inside of my cheek, suppressing a smile. Getting under her skin was far too easy. “I called you a screenager. You do know what that is, right?” “Of course I do.” “Good,” I said mildly. “Because you’re a textbook example.” “I am not!” I rolled my eyes and shut off the burner, sliding the chicken onto a plate. “You’ve been glued to that phone since you showed up. And let’s not pretend you didn’t lose your mind when your charger went missing.”

"I-I …" Every word she said made her throat hurt. She could taste blood. The doctor could see what she was trying to say. He instantly stopped smiling. "Ms. Miller, half of your body is covered in burns. Your throat has been damaged due to the copious amount of smoke you inhaled too. It might …" It might never return to the same state as before. The doctor couldn't bear to finish the sentence. He continued consoling her, saying, "Hope has the best medical resources. I believe that if you go along with the treatment, you'll get well soon."