The Blade And Flower Bl Novels & Stories

“It’s just like I warned. The moonveil blossom can serve as either a cloaking plant or a hallucination pollen. Whoever your mate saw was a trick of the mind. Not you.” “Save me the science talk.” Then he looked at me with an emotion I wasn’t sure I wanted to peg as sincere. “I also did this for you, brother. Using the flower was to build a rift between both of you so after her death, you’d have no attachment to her death. She served her usefulness after all.” Diandra’s mother screamed, taking steps forward that were quickly intercepted by a guard. She threw herself back into her husband’s arms, sobbing. My fists closed with impossible tightness. I tried not to focus on the rage my wolf was f

Vaelreth stepped slowly into the courtyard. The air shifted as he moved. Adrian could never quite explain it, but whenever the king entered a space, the atmosphere changed. Like standing too close to a storm. “You treat the blade well,” Vaelreth said. His gaze moved to the sword. “It is well balanced.” “It should be,” Adrian replied. “It belongs to the crown.” A faint smile touched the king’s lips. “And yet you wield it.” Adrian shrugged slightly. “I was given the responsibility.” Vaelreth circled him slowly.

“No.” The flame presses harder, trying to crush my will to dust. I move forward anyway. I will not kill her. Not for prophecy. Not for gods. The fire bows. --- I step from the altar’s heart, smoke curling from my skin. In my hand — a bone blade, heavier than steel, runes crawling its length. One word pulses with light: Nyxara. The beast lowers its head. “Then you are bound to her, in life and ruin. Carry that blade well… for the gods will call it blasphemy.”

And the blush that was barely receding was back again. "I'm not a pretty little flower, Roses are as pretty as they are dangerous." He scoffed, standing up and even from where he was standing, I could see that he'll tower over me. He straightened out his suit jacket. Eyes boring into mine. "The only dangerous roses are those with thorns Rose, and you my dear, you have no thorns. You're a pretty little flower, a harmless little flower." He walked towards me till he was standing right Infront of me, towering over me as expected, I craned my neck just too look at him. "I'll be taking my leave now pretty flower, say hi to Mr. Potter for me."

The silver hair bloomed under the faint moonlight peeping through the leaves, reflecting pale light like threads of metal. I could not see his face clearly, but the sight of his broad back alone made my breathing hitch slightly. My heart started hammering inside my chest. "Don't fall in love," Moon warned. "I am not," I whispered quickly, though my pulse refused to calm down. My attention immediately shifted to his wound. A dagger had been driven deep into his back shoulder. The blade glinted faintly beneath the moonlight. Even from this distance, I could recognize the dull gray coating along the metal.

Blade made sure of that. By the time they reached the wrought-iron gates, students were already clearing out, muttering curses and complaints. Blade didn’t even look back. Authority rolled off him like heat. Scarlet sank onto one of the old swings, the chains creaking softly. She stared at a blood-red flower nearby, petals curling inward like they were trying to protect themselves. Her hands still shook. Blade stood behind her for a moment, then rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. She flinched instinctively...then relaxed.

“Claudia will not stop until she makes me part of the weapon she forges. I cannot wait for her to strike. I must hold the truth myself.” Alexander looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her hand gently. “Then we will carry it together.” Outside, the wind rose, rattling the windows with the sound of branches clawing against glass. Evelyn stood at the balcony, looking over the city lights. Somewhere across the continent, Claudia Moreau was gathering fragments of the past and sharpening them into a blade. Evelyn whispered to herself, “Let her build it. We will be ready when she draws it.”

Just his eyes burning into mine. He was for a fourteen year old. I let him into my life, he held on the bumpy ride. I put up my first flower on the wall that day, next to a butterfly. It was a rose.

Chapter Two: SIGHTING Later that night, Rojean dolled up to go to a place that was both a nightclub and a bar that everyone was talking about. She was old enough, for sure, especially if she was going to get married soon. But she was never the kind of person to go out on the weekends, to a club or even a bar and always preferred the comfort of their apartment which Lucas didn’t mind at all even when he wanted to go out. She was in a cream coloured off shoulder dress which stopped mid-thigh and hugged her curves beautifully.

"Like the princess, tea, or flower?" I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, a smile growing on my face. "The flower. Why do you—why do you call me Bloom?" Zac shrugged lightly, looking out the window. "I assumed it was the flower. Blooming—as flowers do." I inhaled sharply. I was—flattered, I think. Confused. I didn't think Zac was someone who would put thought into a nickname. It—kind of made my heart tug. It was—just more thoughtful than I would have imagined Zac to be.