Vampire Roses Novels & Stories

[Rose] I stared at my face in the mirror and sigh putting on my lipstick for the second time. My time coming up for another dance. I could feel my feet getting sore minute by minute as I made my way towards the dance floor. My teeth unintentionally bit my lower lip softly as I suddenly saw Kaden standing near the stage. The club was filled with people because it was a weekend. I had t leave early today because I was going apartment hunting tomorrow morning. I didn't care about the size. I didn't care if it was not convenient.

Rose imagined many things as she walked through the halls of the huge and imposing Vamcap mansion, being followed by her mother, cousin and sister, arm in arm with her father of the huge Vamcap mansion, while thinking about what her future husband would be like. She imagined him as a decrepit and disgusting old man, as na immature and arrogant boy her age and even as a frightening and ghostly figure, like Bram Stoker’s Dracula. However, when the four finally stopped in front of a large solid wooden door and an elderly man dressed as a butler allowed them to pass, Rose discovered that reality was very different from what she had imagined.

It was barely there, just a whisper of the floral sweetness she used to wear, but it was enough to make my chest tighten. I dropped my head into my hands, tears streaming down my face. Vampires didn’t cry often; it wasn’t in our nature. But this pain was too much to contain. My shoulders shook as the sobs overtook me, raw and uncontrollable. The silence around me felt oppressive, like the forest itself was mourning with me. I looked up at the grave again, the black rose I had placed on top of the dirt standing out starkly against the earth. It was the only flower I could find that felt right for her—dark, beautiful, and strong, just like she had been.

” I paused and kissed Rosaria’s neck and she sighed. “She passed through the battle field and wrinkled her nose at the stench of blood. From the puncture wounds on the throats of the victims, she could tell that the scene was caused by vampires. Ancient blood sucking beings that were cursed to live in the dark. She a heard a grunt and immediately realized someone was still alive. Walking towards the sound, she was mesmerized by the young man who lay down choking on his own blood. He opened his eyes ever so slightly and she was fascinated by his blue eyes, you could call it love at first sight.

"The eternal roses store more than just energy. They contain fragments of everything they've witnessed, everyone they've touched." But Iris was already lost in the connection, her consciousness expanding to encompass the flower's perspective. Through its luminescent petals, she experienced Eleanor's first successful cultivation, felt the young botanist's tears of joy as the impossible bloom opened for the first time. She sensed Damien's overwhelming relief as he discovered he could draw sustenance from beauty rather than blood, witnessed sixty years of careful tending and gradual trust building between woman and vampire. And underneath it all, she felt the roses' own awareness, their joy in

Finally we reached a door carved with thorned vines. Lucien pressed his palm against the wood and it swung open silently. The garden beyond stole my breath. It should not exist this far underground but somehow it did. A courtyard open to the night sky above where stars glittered like scattered diamonds. Black roses grew everywhere climbing walls and spilling from their stone planters. Their petals absorbed light rather than reflecting it just like Queen mother seraphine's hair and at their centers had a faint crimson glow pulsed like heartbeats. "My mother's blood garden." Lucien moved down a path between the roses. "Each plant is fed with vampire blood mixed into the soil. It sustains them

The source of his calm was a figure that had just walked into the room. Rose turned to see a female vampire enter the room. She stood tall, her slender yet athletic figure draped in a flowing black gown. Her porcelain skin was deathly pale. She had high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Her eyes are a piercing emerald green. Her raven-black hair lay on her shoulders, flowing to her back. For a second, Rose envied her. She was beautiful, the haunting kind. She walked inside the room with an aura of evil strolling beside her. Her gaze was both mesmerizing and unsettling as her eyes swept across the room. Her full lips, which were painted a deep crimson, curled into a smile as soon as she spotted

Yuna was about to answer that when Minerva calmly interjected. "Yuna, let me tell them about the rose field," Minerva decided, making Yuna check on her for a few seconds before nodding. "Sure." She smiled and let the vampire elder share what she knew about the rose. "First of all, I knew them because both Monte Cruz and Escoffier had their background having a unique bond. And as I was saying about the Escoffier Rose Field, it was the only field that contained wolfsbane and silver, which was not good for any one of us. However, for some reason, this type of rose wasn't bad between the family of Orlok and the Escoffier. Since there was no bad effect in them, Rose Ann gave a plant to her vampir

“That’s how you survived. The Moonrose. Tell me—what does it actually do?” He gave a dry chuckle, pride bleeding through his ancient voice. “The roses come in pairs. I have the white one. Kiran has the black—far more powerful, but dangerous. Like soulmates, these roses are bound. Mine has kept me alive. More than that—I am the rose now. I don’t just use its power. I am its vessel.” Without another word, I unsheathed my blade and sliced my palm. Blood welled and dripped into the ceremonial bowl. Rhaegos, resigned, did the same. Our blood swirled together—ancient, powerful, defiant.

Just as discovery seemed inevitable, they noticed something we hadn’t seen: the trail of Moon Roses that had grown from the path we had come, but seemed to be leading in a different direction than where we were. "Moonblossoms," one vampire murmured, momentarily distracted from our scent. "Impossible. They haven't grown wild since before the fall of the kingdoms." Another vampire, clearly more senior by the ornate design on his collar, signalled sharply. "Forget the flowers. Find the source of the blood." But the third vampire was already bending to examine the nearest Moon Rose, her expression transfixed. "They're following a path," she whispered, tracing the line of silvery-blue blooms that