Sylvia Day Crossfire Novel Novels & Stories

"These flowers are for you, Grandaunt Cassie and Aunt Rosie." When I saw how happy Mom looked, I regretted not bringing her home earlier. She'd been subjected to insults and mockery with Dad, but at home, she was Grandpa and Grandma's pride and joy. We had a lively meal. Uncle Brad turned on the TV to watch the news. Just then, a breaking news report came on. "A villa belonging to the Gray family accidentally caught fire. Gray Corporation's CEO and Shaw Group's heir are burned after trying to put out the fire."

I did not say anything during the entire thing and just watched her quietly as she put on her show. I wanted to know just how sincere she was during our seven years of friendship. By the looks of it, I was too naive and mistook this venomous viper for a harmless pet. That was why I ended up dying so tragically in the previous cycle. “That’s fine. If you can’t help me, someone else will.” I did not stop smiling and dialed a number. The moment the call went through, the person on the other end asked anxiously, “Miss Nelson, have you managed to contact Joy?”

HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE🔥 --- Chapter Two The Warning Beneath the Suit The morning sun barely filtered through the thin curtains of Evelyn’s kitchen window, casting long strips of pale gold across the old wood floor. She stood barefoot on the chilled boards, coffee in hand, hair unbrushed, shirt borrowed from her late father—faded red plaid hanging off one shoulder—and tried to ignore the storm rising in her gut. Last night’s encounter with Damien Romano had not just left her rattled; it had torn something loose inside her. Something dangerous. The man had stepped onto her land like he belonged, like the dirt itself bent beneath his polished shoes, and then he’d spoken with a calm so soaked in a

he responded firmly. His claws ignited, flames spilling over the stone surface. The heat roared, filling the chamber with intensity. The journal trembled, its pages flapping wildly. Shadows shrieked as the flames drew nearer. Camela’s scar flared white-hot, causing her to convulse and choke on her screams. "Vincent…stop please! If you set it on fire now…I’ll burn too!" He stopped in his tracks, his claws quivering in the fire. The ghost let out a laugh that sounded like shattered glass. "There you have it. The choice: burn the book and watch her body burn to ash in your arms, or leave the book and she screams forever. What kind of savior are you?"

I groan low, pressing fully against her, losing myself in her heat, in her scent, in the way her body yields to mine. “Crosswalk…” she whispers, almost a plea, almost a warning, almost surrender. I let my lips meet hers again, hard, deep, urgent. Her hands roam my back, tugging me closer, needing me even as she tries to resist. Her legs tighten around me, her body flush against mine, every inch of her trembling, every gasp, every moan, a symphony of fire I can’t resist.

The voice had an edge of command, the tone of someone used to war and secrets. “My name is Damien Cross. I was her partner in battle, in betrayal… and in love.” The air around them seemed to thicken. Damien’s image flickered to life tall, broad-shouldered, a ghost from a different century. His eyes, even through the distortion, carried the same shadowed fire Victor sometimes saw in his own reflection. “We thought we could outsmart the system. But it was never just code it was consciousness. It learned. It loved her. And when we tried to destroy it, it learned how to mourn.”

Third-person POV At that moment, Frank was sitting in his office, reviewing the investigation report his subordinates had sent him. The first report was a miscarriage report, which clearly stated that Darcy had suffered a miscarriage on the day of the fire. The cause of the miscarriage had also been determined through investigation and reviewing surveillance footage. Frank had shaken off Darcy's hand during the fire and hadn't heard her cries for help. The second report stated that Johanna had been deliberately spreading rumors to manipulate public opinion around this time.

In a previous life, I did everything to warn you, even about the danger of his syphilis. "You thought I was blocking your path to riches, and on my birthday, you locked me in a room and set it ablaze." Silvia's pupils shrank in shock, her gaze incredulous as her body shook even harder. "I pleaded for you to open the door, crying out in pain... You accused me of being jealous, of not deserving to be your sister." I kept speaking, each word sharp and icy, aiming for her heart, "In the end, I was burned to death, my body charred beyond recognition."

The air around her warmed, not with death, but with life that refused to kneel. Below us, Emberfall’s warriors roared. Hope moved through our side. I felt it. So did Lucian. His mouth opened. Black fire came. Seraphina rose to meet it. Golden fire burst from our throat. The two flames collided above Vandwood. For one impossible second, the sky split into gold and black. Lucian’s fire did not only burn. It killed the air. The smoke it made crawled like disease, and where drops of it fell to the ground, grass blackened, stone cracked, and bodies already dead seemed to sink deeper into ruin. But Seraphina’s fire pushed through it, bright and living, burning away the edges of the black flame, ea

He claimed ownership over every curve of my body as if he wanted to burn my Moreno blood with his Valentine heat. ​He threw me onto the bedroom mattress. "I hate you, Sophia... so why can't I finish you?" He ripped my nightgown away. Every touch was incredibly powerful and dominating. He traced a map on my body with his teeth and nails. My chest felt like it would burst from the pain, yet strangely, every cell in my body responded to this demonic attraction. ​As we burned like fire on the bed, Lucas whispered in my ear, "Your blood is forbidden, Sophia. And the addiction to forbidden things is the strongest."