Una Rosa Para Otra Rosa Novels & Stories

Red roses were for the living. Those who were still here. Those who remembered. Those who loved.

Her father died unexpectedly and left them in a sea of sorrow. Rosalia and her mother are living in a two-story house that her parents bought together. It’s a small house, but they’re happy there. She is strolling along the winding streets of the city. The streets are adorned with a delicate shower of cherry blossoms, their pale pink and white petals gently swaying in the breeze. Despite her efforts to catch a few in passing, the ephemeral nature of the blossoms eludes her grasp. As she is strolling along, the enchanting scene inspires a melody in her heart and a sense of melancholy as she realizes that this fleeting season will soon come to a close. This spring season holds a special place

Caesar casually asked, "You seem to like roses a lot?" Lola said, "They're delicious!" She put her hands on the cold stone railing, excitedly pointing to a red flower growing not far away, and told Caesar, "Ah! General, do you know that flower? Its scientific name is Pseudorchis albida. The stamens taste sweet. It's said that as long as an Alpha gives it to an Omega, the Omega will never be able to leave the Alpha. Many Alphas pick it by hand to express their love for their Omegas..."

One who was good with words and action in duality. “Do you love it?” Drystan asked, his deep voice pulling her out of her trance. Rosealba gaze flickered back to the bracelet for the first time since Drystan wore it. Her lips stretched and tears almost blurred her vision as she glared at the bracelet engraved with. ‘you are MINE, white rose.’ Rosealba exhaled throwing her head backward and fanning her eyes to eradicate the tears while Drystan just stared at her, his world revolving around her.

Two Years Later “Roses?” Luca asks in a soft, curious voice. I nod. “Yes,” I say, smiling up at him. “But not just any roses. Red roses.” He chuckles, his arm brushing mine as we walk side by side. “Red roses, huh? Not white, not pink?” I nod again. “I love roses.” “You know, I never thought you’d be a rose-loving kind of girl. Roses seem… too ordinary,” he says, and I shrug.

Alexander: You're a beautiful flower that I'm starting to really like. I squealed silently...if that's even possible...in excitement, a goofy grin overtaking my features. This was definitely a scene straight out of one of my romance novels. Rosette: So in this category, what do I call you? Best to play it safe for now. Alexander: Choose Rosette: What if I don't want to? Alexander: You have to, so please do. Rosette: Fine Rosette: Alexander No reply, I waited for what seemed like minutes but was actually just seconds.

She yearns for an escape, longing to find a place where she can live peacefully, free from the burdens that weigh her down. Saisha, noticing Rose's restless pen-clicking, musters the courage to inquire about her concerns. Rose takes a deep breath, shaking her head in response. Saisha persists, stating her curiosity and wondering what could be bothering Rose. Rose turns to face her, a smile gracing her lips as she retorts, "Not all of us are born with roses, Saisha. I was born with thorns that will continue to prickle me all my life."

Marco drove into the gates of La Rosa Nera. The club's neon lights cast an eerie shadow over everything they touched. The club's pathway was a spectacle to behold. An archway adorned with beautiful black roses that resonated with the name of the club, La Rosa Nera (The Black Rose). The petals of these gorgeous flowers glittered and danced under the night sky. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and a fading sensation of danger that lingered.

Her gaze locks, onto me broken, intense the spirit I bet on and loved years ago sparking to life for a moment. “Tomorrow " she murmurs, the term cutting like a knife. "They said tomorrow.” “Next we possess twenty-four hours to turn tomorrow into the day, in the city’s history.” Rosa’s laughter is piercing, like glass trapped in a jar resonating from the darkness where she hones her machetes for the fifth time this evening. "Count me in.”

Rosa’s eyes flicked to me again, one last time, and this time there was no confusion left, no doubt, only understanding, and something else beneath it, something quiet and heavy. “You were never going to let me leave,” she said. I held her gaze for a second before I looked away. “No,” I said. The silence that followed was louder than anything else that had happened so far, thick and suffocating, and for a moment it felt like the forest itself had gone completely still. Then the hybrid moved. It was quick, too quick for Rosa to react, his hand closing around her throat as the markings surged upward, wrapping around her completely, the light flashing bright enough to make me flinch as it pulle