War For The Roses Novels & Stories

" There were plenty of flower shops along the way, but none of them satisfied Willow. Eventually, she picked a store that looked clean and pretty and had beautifully wrapped flowers. Willow stepped inside. The shop owner greeted her with a smile. "What kind of flowers do you want to buy, kid?" "Roses!" Willow declared boldly. She heard that roses symbolized love. If she gave roses to her parents, they would surely understand just how much she loved them. The shop owner led her to the roses. "You can choose the roses, kid." "Thank you." Willow watched carefully from the side. There were different colors of roses—white ones, red ones, and even roses that gradually transitioned from white to bl

Then my father’s voice sliced through again—only to break me completely. “Brace yourself. You’re getting married to Lucas Rodriguez by noon today.” I staggered backward, nearly collapsing. The room tilted. My hand struck a vase by the shelves, and when it shattered, dull red blood dripped from my palm onto the marble floor. They didn’t care. Not one glance. Lucas Rodriguez. The name alone made my knees buckle. I’d heard it whispered before—in boardrooms, in dark corners of the city, in the trembling breaths of people who knew better than to say it aloud. Enough to make men flinch in back alleys and moguls swallow their pride.

Another taunt. I took it carefully, the stem cold against my palm. Beatrice. The rose was hers. Always hers. I set it down beside Naomi’s pistol on the table. Two relics, side by side: her fight, her theft, her silence. My rage. “This is war,” I said quietly. Rubio inclined his head. “Then we’ll need more men.” “No,” I said, my eyes on the rose. “We need fewer. Men who owe me everything. Men with nothing to lose. Call them in.”

and left the kitchen. My hands were itching to spill her young innocent blood. I wouldn't be giving her an easy death; It'll be slow and painful as payment for the time and resources we've spent looking for her and when father comes back from his trip, I'll give him her corpse as a welcome home present I concluded with a chuckle. ROSELLE'S POV.

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it.” She shrugged, and opening the small door in the gate. She had no umbrella with her, I’m guessing she go out in a hurry. Who wouldn’t when their cousin was standing in front of her own home gate, and staring at her house like a psycho? “Don’t apologize. Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.” I nod, following her through the door. The walkway is just like I remember, on each side are prize winning roses. Of different colors. Huh? When do black roses exist? I took a small detour from following Alexis, bending over a patch of those strange black roses.

REJECTED Rose's parents gave him deaf ears because the more he apologized, the angrier they got. It was hard for them to behold his presence as it made them imagine his guts for still apologizing after causing the demise of their daughter. Rose's father, Mr. Gabriel almost strangled him to death but was held back by his wife.

One patient enough to build a system years before it is used. Disciplined enough to stay invisible while everyone else fought in the open. Rose had never been the end of this war. She was only the battlefield. And somewhere, the person who had chosen that battlefield was still invisible.

They want to dismantle the hierarchy of the entire wolf kind. "Who’s your contact?" I demand, stepping back. "How are you moving across borders unseen? Who’s feeding you intel?" He grins up at me, his teeth stained red. "The Rose." My heart hammers against my ribs. "What did you say?" "The Rose," he whispers, a look of reverence crossing his twisted face. "She blooms in the dark. She carries the scent of the garden and the poison of the grave. She opened the door for us." Wild roses.

Isabella added. Everyone's attention was already on us and few people had their phones out recording the exchange. Ella turned to me “Leila, can we please just ignore these nitwits, they aren't worth our time”. What followed was a blur, but all I could feel was oil from the stew running down my face before hearing the sound of a palm striking a face. The pepper in the stew was stinging my eyes, and all I could think of was getting some water to wash it away.

Not a moment later he charged forward with the front line of his army. "Ready men," Rose called out as she raised her sword above her head. We all pulled our weapons out and sank into a defensive stance as one. Those short moments as the humans charged at us were some of the longest seconds of my life. The ground shook as their feet and horses pounded into the earth, the red light of the moon creating a fire and brimstone atmosphere. Rose waited in the middle of the troops, staying perfectly still as they gained ground only dropping her hand at the last possible second.