The Black Rose Book Novels & Stories

The rare black dragon roses. These are unlike any other roses, black in colour, and twice the size of ordinary roses. They are uniquely found only within the confines of the dark forest's cliff! “Found them!” I cried out, feeling a gush of excitement. “Be careful!” Rey warned from behind. After setting my bag down, I cautiously approached the cliff edge, which was somewhat slick from an unexpected rain shower. I gently positioned myself at the edge, leaning slightly forward, and reached for the plant. A single rose would suffice.

“You okay, bro?” “Never better. Take a closer look at this rose. What do you see?” I asked him, waving the half-dead burnt flower in his face. “Just a burnt flower and an odd cousin. Are you sure you are, ok? You don’t seem so” He was being overly concerned. I walked around the table and ended up standing right in front of him. “Take a second look!” I insisted in an even more persuasive tone. “Okay, I’ll help you a little. This burnt flower, as you call it, is my next victim,” I explained as I lasciviously stroked the burnt velvet petals.

The hall was silent, except for Roses’ soft whimpers. Nightbane’s gaze never left me. His wolf—weak, dyin, still managed to claw through his eyes, burning red like a wound that refused to heal. “Fel,” he breathed. Just one word, but it shattered the walls I’d built. I staggered to my feet, clutching Roses. “What are you doing here?” My voice was raw, breaking. I handed Roses to my mother and clutched my chest, “You’re not supposed to—”

Then I see a something black and shiny. Black roses. How did I not see that before? Water from the few drops of winter dew that had fallen before I set out on the hunt, lay comfortably on their petals, adding to its beauty a glint that speaks to my soul. I have seen red roses, white roses, even yellow roses at most corners of the Pack surrounding even at the creek, which I had intentionally avoided going to for the time being, and all these roses held their meanings that all relate to love. But I have never seen a black rose. How excruciatingly beautiful in its darkness, calls to a love that is rooted in one existence, flowing through one’s veins, surging with every heartbeat.

Mira darted her eyes around the quiet neighborhood before slamming the door shut. She placed the box on the floor, heart racing, panic pressing against her chest. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she crouched down, careful not to strain her belly. Slowly, she lifted the lid. A single black rose lay inside, resting on top was a card. Get ready, Mira. Her heart thundered. She recoiled and flung the rose across the room as though it might burn her. A black rose. A symbol of darkness, revenge... death.

The dark rose’s delicate petals on Rosen’s hip were pulsing with a faint, unnatural crimson glow. “The vessel who bears the Rose is required to remain untouched. Pure. Sealed.” Killian let out a short, scoffing laugh. “You honestly expect me to take the Crows’ religious fairy tales seriously?” He still couldn’t fully accept any of it. The entire thing sounded absurd. A male vessel. A sacred rose. Too fucking ridiculous. “The Black Rose is a parasite,” Luken insisted flatly. “A very old, very real symbiotic organism. It feeds on the host’s life force. I can’t say for certain if it grants their kind fortune. But the mark is kept dormant by absolute purity.”

A female police officer shouted: “Could it be that he is Albert, the famous criminal psychologist detective who has solved many difficult cases. I still have his book The Punisher here. The book is about the tough murders he has solved, including his analysis of the psychology of criminals in detail. I didn't expect him to be so young and handsome." Albert entered the room, meeting his eyes was a very strange atmosphere. In the dim light of the white room, a middle-aged man was lying at the far end of the room; in the center of his chest were numerous stab wounds. He lay in a pool of blood with his eyes wide open, and inside those eyes were fear and despair. The most striking thing is still

Ada's manager wondered aloud worriedly. "I remember you like the gothic style, Ada. How about black roses?" Alyssa suggested with a grin. "Black roses?" Ada squealed in excitement. "We decorated the previous venue with ten tons of red roses. We don't have time to redecorate everything, but switching to Essagerian black roses would be easy." Ada's face was glowing. She had liked Alyssa's first event proposal, but this second one was her dream wedding. Black roses were symbols of mystery, desire, and possession. The symbolism was unique, cool, and romantic.

Shortly after inhaling a deep breath, Melpomene expressed and never did her words break Liam's smile. "She is the Black Rose. The woman is bound to keep you under her wing." Liam spoke and informed Melpomene who did not seem to be agreeing with his words. She looked down for a while and then threw his eyes back at Liam again. "The Black Rose isn't who she says she is. What if I told you her biggest secret?" Releasing her hands from Liam's hands, Melpomene spat, her smile slowly dwindling as she spoke.

Dream of owning me. Because the black rose is already blooming between your ribs. And when it opens fully, it will drink you dry.