Romans & histoires Blood Black Roses

He flinched slightly, but didn’t show it for long. Then... there came a heavy knock on the door. Before I even processed it, the door swung open again on its own. I nearly fainted at the sight before me. “Kyra…” Norway slipped inside like a serpent—and, like the one who owns the entire fortress, tall and calm and infuriatingly elegant. And right behind him? Another group of servants carrying… “Are those… roses?” I croaked. “Black roses specifically,” he corrected, smiling warmly. “They are very rare, and royal. They bloom only where sacred bloodlines are blessed.”

He raised his head to look at her, like he was surprised to see her there. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She’d asked as she tried to pry open his fist. He’d let her, opened it up easily and let her take the rose from his now bloody palm, the flower fell to the floor. “Shit!” She exclaimed as pulled up the hem of her oversized t-shirt and proceeded to clean the blood from his palm. “Are you insane?” she whipped her head up to look at him “Why would you hold a rose that way, didn’t you ever learn that you have to avoid the thorns?”

And the blush that was barely receding was back again. "I'm not a pretty little flower, Roses are as pretty as they are dangerous." He scoffed, standing up and even from where he was standing, I could see that he'll tower over me. He straightened out his suit jacket. Eyes boring into mine. "The only dangerous roses are those with thorns Rose, and you my dear, you have no thorns. You're a pretty little flower, a harmless little flower." He walked towards me till he was standing right Infront of me, towering over me as expected, I craned my neck just too look at him. "I'll be taking my leave now pretty flower, say hi to Mr. Potter for me."

If she could just find a way out…. A loud click. She spun. The door behind her creaked open. Not the hallway door. The panel behind the bookcase. A man stepped through the narrow passageway, dark curls damp with sweat, a gun in one hand, blood on the other. His shirt clung to his sculpted torso, open down to the middle of his chest, smeared with soot. But it was his eyes, those ice-blue eyes that rooted her to the floor. Alonso.

Rose White an 18 years old innocent flawless beauty who started loving someone all her life even before knowing what is LOVE. Unfortunately she doesn't know by then the man who is her world is not her soulmate but the man who is going to tear her soul apart by scattering her heart into million pieces which can never be repaired. Alexander Black an 26 year old arrogant ruthless billionaire heir whose ways of dealing with his enemies will make them fear him even in their next birth. Love such a wonderful emotion which can fill ones life with colorful dreams but at the same if it's not valued it can haunt you till eternity.

She’s sitting at her desk with her laptop open, looking worried and tired like she didn’t sleep well either. “I’ve been thinking about that letter all night,” I tell her as I get out of bed. “Me too,” Cassie replies without looking away from her computer screen. “Actually, I stayed up late doing some research about black roses.” “What did you find out?” I ask, though I’m not sure I really want to know. Cassie turns to face me with a serious expression. “Black roses have a really dark symbolic meaning. They usually represent death, endings, or revenge. Sometimes they’re used to threaten someone or to say that something bad is going to happen to them.”

It wasn’t black like I’d deduced at first, but a very, very dark shade of red. He sat on the stairs beside me and took my hand in his while I tried to suppress a shudder. He brought the petal close and wrapped it around the bleeding finger. “Hold down the petal, it’ll stop the poisoning.” He said. “Poisoning?” I asked, alarmed. “You’re a new vampire, aren’t you?” He gave me a wry smile. “Black Rose is used as a key ingredient in a daylight bracelet, but if it comes in direct contact with the skin, it can cause poisoning especially for a vampire.”

Marco drove into the gates of La Rosa Nera. The club's neon lights cast an eerie shadow over everything they touched. The club's pathway was a spectacle to behold. An archway adorned with beautiful black roses that resonated with the name of the club, La Rosa Nera (The Black Rose). The petals of these gorgeous flowers glittered and danced under the night sky. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and a fading sensation of danger that lingered.

“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.