Story cover for He Burned Me Once by SelinaKyxle
He Burned Me Once
  • WpView
    Reads 67
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    Parts 23
  • WpHistory
    Time 51m
  • WpView
    Reads 67
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 23
  • WpHistory
    Time 51m
Complete, First published May 23
Pineville, Louisiana - a sleepy town draped in Spanish moss and whispered secrets. Here, Rue Fenimore tends to her grandmother's bookstore, Spellbound Pages, a haven for the occult and the curious. The last of her bloodline, Rue carries the weight of a dying legacy-her magic flickering like a candle in the wind, her heart heavy with the loss of her mother and the curse that haunts her family.
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Behind the Spotlight and the Shelves by TaeGukSan
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Paris was never truly silent. Even at night, it breathed. Tires whispered over wet cobblestones, and the Seine hummed beneath its bridges like a secret lover. But inside the bookstore tucked between Rue des Martyrs and Rue Victor Massé, there was a different kind of hush. A reverent one. The hush of books. Of stories resting. And Blossom Purple belonged to that hush. She stood behind the counter, one hand on a stack of leather-bound journals, the other curled into the pocket of her cardigan like she was holding onto herself. Outside the wide glass windows, a line was already forming-fans, readers, curious souls with camera phones and tattered poetry books in hand. They were here for him. Taelyr King. The poet. The painter. The recluse. The man whose verses had seduced the world-and disappeared for three years without a trace. And now he was back. In her store. She wanted to scream. Or vanish. Or both. What none of them knew-what no one would ever know-was that she had once traced his words on her skin. That she had once stood in a crowd just like this, whispering his name in her mind like a sin. But that was before her mother died. Before the silence became her sanctuary. Before she built walls around herself so high, even her own voice couldn't climb out. She didn't need poetry anymore. She needed peace. Routine. Control. And then he walked in. A long black coat clinging to him like a shadow. Boots that echoed against the stone floor. Dark eyes that swept the store once and then-landed on her. Like a match striking dry wood. Her body went still. And in that one glance, she knew two things: He was nothing like the man she imagined. And he was everything she had been trying to forget.
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