War For The Roses Novels & Stories

Roose said and anger was shown in her eyes. "A very Good morning My most Beautiful princess. This beautiful flower for the most beautiful person in the world! White Lily with Red Roses, just like you. I remember you always loved it. Take this and give a beautiful smile so that my day will be very beautiful." Marcas said all these loving things very sweetly and broke Christian and Roose's argument.

Giant, deep red, glowing roses. I thrashed, trying to pull myself up, but the damn things had a grip like iron. Every time I moved an inch, they sprawled higher, coiling tighter, dragging me deeper into their grasp. Their petals looked soft, almost beautiful—until I saw the teeth hidden beneath them, snapping dangerously close to my skin. "That woman said the fae world isn't a joke!" I growled, struggling harder. "But she failed to mention the motherfucking sea of carnivorous roses!"

I give them to her. "I love roses but the fact you brought the red ones scores you another point in my book." she smells them. "Good to know that." I grin. "But you know you needn't have brought them anyway." she stares. "I wanted to." I reply. I was passing this flower shop when I saw these good looking roses. My mind immediately went to Della and I knew I had to get her a bouquet. "Okay. A minute, I need to put these in a vase." I wait for her from outside before she returns all set. We get inside the car and I fire the engine to the busy street.

Just like me, all he could do was listen to the cries. He fought to break through, throwing himself at the barrier like a wild animal, but it was useless. Eventually, he sank to the ground, defeated. On his knees, head bowed, his tears hit the cold stone like raindrops. Over and over, he whispered my names— "Wendy…" "Rose…" For a long time, I couldn't tell who he was grieving for. Wendy? Or Rose? A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. Then the clouds broke. Rain poured down in torrents.

They seemed to express that I didn't want him anymore. Facing 50 acres of land, Jeffrey finally realized that I, like these departed roses, would not return. The roses had been given to another woman by him casually, and its owner would not return because of himself. I would no longer plant flowers for him. He would never see me holding roses and asking him, "The roses are ripe. When are we going to get married?" He realized that roses had feelings too. I was willing to be trapped in a greenhouse by him because of my love for him.

He stayed in the car and waited. Holding a bouquet of white roses, Daisy slowly walked through rows of gravestones until she stopped in front of the one tucked away in the farthest corner. The stone bore only Dario's name and the years of his birth and death. In the photograph, he had on a black suit. His distinct features were exactly the same as the first time Daisy had met him. She placed the white roses in front of the gravestone and stood there silently for a long time. Finally, she said softly, "When I said I wouldn't forgive you, I meant it. But I don't hate you anymore either. Rest in peace."

Before I could clear the threshold of the front door, a sharp movement at the top of the stairs caught my eye. Rodah was standing by the balustrade, her fingers gripping the polished wood until her knuckles were white. The dark silk robe was tied loosely around her waist, exposing the smooth, flushed skin of her neck and chest. Her green eyes weren't filled with the terrified submission most women would show during a cartel hit. They were furious. She was angry at the intrusion, angry at her own vulnerability, and deeply sobered by the realization that her defiance had kicked off this entire avalanche. The raw, aggressive chemistry between us was still there, vibrating through the open space

The girl leaned close, and the boy looked up at her, the corners of his eyes curving slightly. His gaze was full of her. He smiled and pointed to the flowerpot she had just placed nearby. Half teasing, he said, “Then Cecilia is a red rose. Delicate and thorny. Only I can afford to take care of you.” Cecilia turned and looked at the roses Lucas had placed in the room that morning. And tears streamed silently down her face.

Claec's gentle hand had reached over to pet through her overflowing and untamed brown locks, and those warm eyes landed on her again, "What is your favorite flower, lil miss?" She had hesitated. "I like…" She bit her lip, trying to think, but only one answer came to mind, "roses." Claec had liked those best, and roses reminded her of… Warm eyes. An amused chuckle hit her ears, "Red ones?" "No." The lie escaped her mouth without a hitch. SCRATCH.

He has every right to be angry then I see him looking at my bump. He comes towards me slowly as if tiger is taunting it's hunt that there is no escape from him. He holds my gaze as he traps me between door and his magnificent form. The form which I missed alot at nights. The warmth that form used to gave me at cold night that I missed. "Sometimes instead of beautiful rose, you become a thorn at my side. But I rather feel the pain of it because it is another side of your love too." Rudra says as she looks at me with mixed emotion. Anger, hurt, guilt and most of all love.