Venin Iron Flame Novels & Stories

Not warnings, but welcomes. Mira’s breath caught. Her eyes were wet, her voice low. “How is this even possible?” Velan stopped in front of Azriel and held out the flamevine. “I was the first,” he said, his voice soft but filled with galaxies. “But you remembered loud enough for the rest of us to find our way back.” Azriel dropped to his knees. He didn’t reach for the vine. He reached for the boy’s hand. Their fingers brushed. The sixth flame inside Azriel pulsed—not like a weapon. Like a heartbeat. Like something that wasn’t just living, but choosing him.

My face was full of blood as I ran after them catching a few at a time, killing them like ragdolls. I finally got close enough to see Flame she was fighting the man who held her, he was running but she was slowing him down as she bit him several times, she too had Venom, it was not as strong as an adult but it was slowing him. I quickly caught up to him, freeing her as Ryker and Blaze ripped him apart. I checked her thoroughly, she was not harmed, just scared. I held her tight, getting blood in her hair but she was safe now.

“This...” She hesitated just as James suddenly flipped his palm, and a terrifying and scorching blood-red flame appeared in his hand. In Adina’s extremely shocked gaze, he struck out with a palm, and the scorching blood-red flame immediately manifested into countless scythes of fire filling the sky.

The dimly lit bar was a sanctuary for the weary and the wicked alike. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and the low hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. Chase Almonte leaned against the polished mahogany counter, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge. He had always been a man of ambition, but lately, that ambition had twisted into something darker, fueled by a burning hatred for his niece, Desire.

The word was hard and I trailed my fingers over him, knowing these symbols sometimes meant there was a thick scar which has been covered but somehow, I was still fascinated by every one of them. Maybe because I already knew he was far from been a good boy because it was obviously a gunshot scar but the tattoo was a burning flame. “Tell me what one means.” “No.” I couldn’t stop touching him not only because he was hands-down the sexiest man I’d ever seen but because he was the most fascinating cold-mannered professional on the outside, and a dirty-playing criminal below the surface. I wrapped my hand around the flame tattoo on his arm. “This one, please tell me what this one means and then I’

He reached out to grab me, but the neighbors stepped in and stopped him. Out of options, he pulled out the bracelet, hoping it would stir something inside me. "Lily, I need to give this back to you." I snatched the bracelet and hurled it to the ground, shattering it. "Simon, everything you give me, even your love, feels so cheap." I sneered at his pale, defeated face. "You can be cheap, but I won't let myself be devalued." He whispered in disbelief, "This can't be... You're not my Lily. Give her back to me."

Her fingers awkwardly spelled out letters on his palm: “Stay.” He shut his eyes for a brief moment, gripping her hand tighter. But when he opened them again, the light behind them was dimmer. The glass pulsed with another message: “Bride feeds flame.” Camela’s reflection leaned forward and black smoke began to pour out from its mouth with blood, flowing onto the glass and leaving dripping words: “Kiss him. Give him a voice. Or he fades.” Vincent's fire flickered violently as he formed her name with his lips, desperately but silently. Yet, his body trembled as if life was being drained from him.

It did not explode into flame. Instead, the liquid ignited with a soft and rhythmic violet light. It was the Tempered Flame: a new type of energy that combined the raw heat of the sun with the stabilizing resonance of the Silver Moon. Cinder reached out and touched the glowing liquid, and I watched through the pack link as a wave of profound relief washed over her features. The smoke that had been rising from her copper mane vanished, replaced by a steady and healthy radiance. Her scouts, who had been shimmering with an erratic and wavy grace, suddenly stood with a new and solid weight.

The mysterious man, Amira, Amira, Amira… my mind is intoxicated by her. Staring at my phone's screen saver, her photo fills the screen, and I begin to dream about the time we slept together. Whenever I landed, I went straight to my office in Arizona, checking in on the various operations running under Venom’s vast network. Deals were progressing as expected, shipments were on schedule, and new clients were being brought into the fold. But none of it mattered as much as her.

“Come on in. You’re just in time. I picked up a couple bottles of that cabernet you like.” The evening unfolded on the back deck under strings of soft golden lights. The summer air was thick and warm. It carried the scent of blooming jasmine from the garden. Jordan poured generous glasses of deep red wine and sank into the cushioned chair with a groan. “Work’s been killing me. I’m going to be useless after this glass.”