Suri Burn Book Novels & Stories

The whistle as it boiled covered any possible conversation. That night, I opened the entry logs Leo had sent. Chiara Bellini’s name was in black and white: entered at 2:17, no exit record; Enzo at 2:43; fire at 2:45. Twenty-six minutes. Chiara alone inside. Nobody saw her actions—but I did. The footage was clear: the bucket, the bend, the ignition, the exit. Enzo arrived while the fire was already burning. He didn’t know who started it, only that Chiara was inside, so he saved her.

Every page was backed by irrefutable data and recorded footage. The livestream comments were flooded with the same phrase, "Serves them right." Sabrina survived, but the XN Neurotoxin had destroyed her motor nerve center. As a result, she was paralyzed from the neck down. Her brain was still functioning well enough, so she could hear and see. However, she would never again be able to move even a single finger. She would be stuck on an ICU care bed for the rest of her life.

His fingers, rough with calluses, traced paths across my skin repeatedly, sending delightful shivers through me. I couldn't help but let out a few soft moans. His heavy breathing intensified, and, appearing emboldened, his hand continued its exploration lower down my body. His low, husky voice resonated in my ear, laden with a seductive quality, as he asked, "Is it alright if I continue, Cynthia?" I lowered my gaze in a flush of shyness, a gesture that served as my implicit consent. William could no longer suppress the overwhelming passion he felt. He immediately pulled me into his embrace.

12 Liora's POV “You can open the rest of the buttons if you want. Oh heavens. Who does he even think he is? He's not the least bit attractive. He's just... umm... argghh!” I groan, dumping my book away. It falls to the ground with a thud, and I run to pick it up, making sure I didn't tear my favorite storybook because of Evren. When I see no issue with it, a sigh of relief escapes my lips. “Oh, my baby. I'm glad you're okay.”

"Let me tell you, it is better to get killed on the spot than being just thirty minutes in their custody and getting tortured. They won't kill you easily. They will torture you until they get what they want from you." Arjun thought for a moment before continuing,"I once heard they burned a man alive. I don't know why. They pulled his all teeth and nails before pouring wax all over his body and tortured so many times before setting him on fire. And his―" "Okay that's enough. I think you are exaggerating." He shivered at the thought. "I'm not―" Arjun tried to protest. "Whatever. Stay on the topic."

I’d flip the whole damn thing over. I was curled into the corner of the pink plush sofa, knees tucked to my chest, the fluffiest white blanket I’d ever touched draped lazily over my shoulder and down my body. It swallowed my barely-there shorts and oversized T-shirt whole, cocooning me in warmth while the rest of the world faded into nothing but pages and ink. Tragedies of True Hearts. I bit my lip, failing to suppress a giggle as I read—the slow-burn enemies finally cracking, confessions spilling out after chapters of tension and denial. One reckless, emotional night where everything finally unraveled.

Shadows flicker red beneath my door now, dancing like cruel spirits. “Run!” The word echoes in my skull. The door bursts inward in a spray of sparks and splintered wood. Flames roar behind a towering silhouette. A man steps through the fire. I cannot see his face — only the outline of him carved in burning light. And his eyes. They glow. Not with reflection. With power. The world fractures into red and gold. Heat devours everything. The scream tears from my throat— I wake choking on smoke that isn’t there. My room is dark. Quiet. Whole.

Suddenly, he felt a strange vibration throughout his body and looked up to see unfamiliar words written on the cave wall. With a burst of light, the words disappeared, and he saw the light shoot up to the moon, surrounded by a shimmering dance of stars. He followed the light until he found himself in the maternity ward of Corer Hospital. The light stopped at Ward 119, and he heard the cry of a newborn baby.

Carla and Travis watched from the sidelines, hands clasped. “We did it,” Carla said, her voice steady. Travis nodded. “And we’re just getting started.” The scars remained, but they were no longer wounds. Dave, Carla, and the other victims were healing, not just surviving but thriving, their journeys a testament to resilience, love, and the unyielding power of talent reclaimed. ----- This marks the end of the Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire. Compiled short story arcs now made their way to their ends.