We Loved Like Fire, And Burned To Ash Novels & Stories

His fingers, rough with calluses, traced paths across my skin repeatedly, sending delightful shivers through me. I couldn't help but let out a few soft moans. His heavy breathing intensified, and, appearing emboldened, his hand continued its exploration lower down my body. His low, husky voice resonated in my ear, laden with a seductive quality, as he asked, "Is it alright if I continue, Cynthia?" I lowered my gaze in a flush of shyness, a gesture that served as my implicit consent. William could no longer suppress the overwhelming passion he felt. He immediately pulled me into his embrace.

Like it’s trying to hang on a little longer. But then it curls. Warps. Turns black at the edges. I don’t flinch. The fire crackles as the words burn. The ones that said “goodbye.” The ones that said “if I could take it back.” The ones that said he loved me—but not in time. I let them go. The wind picks up, like it’s helping me finish. The ashes lift and scatter. Tiny pieces of the past, rising and vanishing into the air like they were never mine to keep.

Fire was a living thing. I had learned that a long time ago. It breathed, it consumed, and it destroyed everything in its path. But this fire—this wildfire—was different. It wasn’t just alive. It was hungry. The flames roared behind us, devouring the dry forest in seconds, the sky above turning black with smoke. Every gust of wind sent embers spiraling into the air, carried on the back of a storm that seemed hell-bent on chasing us down. The heat was unbearable, like standing too close to an open furnace, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of burning wood and ash.

“ Dear sweet soul of the olden Bruno, to the effect of the past, I write this to you. I have messed up and so did everyone. No one would go contrary to that, but what makes us unique and special is what happened after the mess. Some will fringe and some will reunite. Let’s not give up, remember how it used to be in the past, if only we curtail the selfishness amongst us, we would stand being unshaken. Consider the fact that you are the only one that decided to go against the plan, and besides, Enola is very much eager to forget everything. Just imagine, as you have refused to join us back, we still stand, we are happy that we are back, the regrets will be only for you alone because you got y

ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡɪʟᴅ ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ɢʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ sᴜɴ sᴘʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴡɪʟᴅ sᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ғɪʀᴇғʟɪᴇs

It has to be. This fire burned us all, and now I'm just ashes, learning to breathe again. It is what it is.

“And then we what?” “Then we burn them to ash.”

"Right now." Ivy leaned her head back against his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the flames. "I’m thinking about the way the fire consumes the wood. It doesn't ask for permission. It doesn't care about the history of the tree. It just... takes. And when it’s done, there’s nothing left but ash. Is that our legacy, Dante? To burn until there’s nothing left to feel?" Dante’s hand slid into her hair, his fingers tangling in the dark waves, tilting her head back so she had to look at him. The firelight danced in his eyes, making him look like the devil he was.

She wondered if any of them were still out there, living stories she hadn’t finished. Raegan pulled out her phone and opened her Notes app. The cursor blinked at her, patient and expectant. For a moment, she hesitated, fingers hovering. Then she typed: This is not love, not the kind I dreamed of. This is staying quiet to keep someone from leaving. This is setting myself on fire just to light the way for them. She stopped, heart racing. Her throat tightened. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t polished or gentle or safe. But it was hers.

And there would be no coming back for her after that. She wasn’t built for monsters like me. So she have to walk away. Sooner or later, she would. She have to. Because if she didn’t… I would drag her into my darkness myself. And the fire between us would burn her alive.