Wildfire: A Novel Pdf Novels & Stories

I willed my body to move, to fight through the burning haze of wolfsbane. My brain screamed at my limbs to respond, but the effort was as futile as trying to catch rain in a paper towel during a storm. I lay there, the van’s cold floor pressing against my skin, and tried to shove the rising despair back into myself. But no amount of stubbornness could drown out the gnawing fear that no one would come for me in time.

Roy is trying his best to reach the president and the woman he loves, but he doesn’t know if he could make it. Roy doesn’t even know if he could escape the fire himself since he’s quite deep in the mansion. The wildfire starts to reach him, the man is suddenly taken back by a familiar voice behind him.

I closed my eyes and just absorbed the moment wanting to remember it. Suddenly the sounds of paws hitting the forest floor overwhelmed me. Then in a flash, the forest was ignited with flames. Everything glowed vibrant oranges and reds as heavy smoke smothered me from above. I threw myself to the ground, desperate for any trace of clean air. As I attempted to crawl out of the flowers, new sounds began to harmonize; screams, howls, and cries for help terrorized me.

I grasped Flame’s hand in mine then followed Xaivier away from the crowd. Two men met us before we could reach them. Xaivier held a hand up before they could speak and led the way to the table where the boxes were piled. “Xaivier Zamira” the man with the shaved black hair I had met read from one of the many stapled pages before him “also known as Wildfire. Chekirim born.” “That’s me” he sighed back “can we just get this over with? You’ve been keeping us here long enough.”

WILDA. Damian does not speak or look at me the whole way. His grip on my arm does not loosen either. It is as if he is afraid I might still run away or something. We walk to the house in silence, my heart beating hard in my chest and my palms dripping with sweat. what will happen to me? What will I say should he ask me what I remembered? What did I remember? Grey fur… yellow eyes… white fur… red eyes… skin turning inside out into fur… the sound of bones crushing… my father… am I going crazy? Why did no one tell me I was there? Why did no one tell me I was the reason for my father’s death?

Alicia stared down at him, astonished. "But... how," he said. There had been a fire, and the manuscript had been smothered. He had come expecting information or a recount scroll, and to find both still intact, he was astounded. Even so, he was well aware that they were merely replicas, it wasn't the real one. She smirked with a womanly grin. "Dear Darwin, the forest is my domain. You can't undo what's done once I know about it. Yet what you are seeing is just a replica of the real manuscript.

I scream into the air. "Jessa!" Brixtius's voice is next to me. "Who are you talking to?" "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I tell him. "Let's go!" Brixtius shouts while pulling me down the street. In the same direction as the crowd. We run for a few minutes, the ash making it hard to breathe. Such deadly snow! The next rumble, I realize it is the end. The pyroclastic cloud that kills all the citizens of Pompeii is coming.

They move through the woodlands as quietly as a ghost, leaving no tracks behind them, only a steady stream of noxious liquid spilling from the can. In a few hours time nothing will be left of the powerful accelerant, nor the forest itself. For all intents and purposes it will look like the entire landscape went up in flames of its own accord, a spontaneous combustion at the height of foliage season. In the entire history of the Nova pack, only one wildfire has ever plagued the territory, and never within the city limits. That all changes tonight. It wasn’t a very creative plan, after all Arabella too had played her hand at arson and failed with spectacular grace. But this was different. This

The air felt heavier now, as if it carried more than moisture—something invisible and watching. His backpack lay half-buried in the sand, soaked but intact. He fished out the leather-bound notebook he’d carried everywhere since he was thirteen—the one with the stories, the nightmares, the dreams he could never fully explain. Inside were drawings of forests that bled, oceans that whispered, and a woman with hollow eyes and hands covered in roots. He had drawn her before he ever heard of WildWood. Before he heard the name Emily. Before he knew that she was family.

As I was about to open my mouth again, I was interrupted by the voices that had grown more terrifying. “Run!” They cried. “RUN!” In a heartbeat, the cold air was replaced by a sudden wave of searing heat, prompting me to spin around and face the horrifying sight before me. The manor, where thousands of Farsuleias had left a mark on the history of our lineage, was now consumed by a raging inferno, its flames eagerly dancing upon the foundations. My breath caught in my chest as I watched the fire's voracious hunger devour everything in its path.