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A Veil of Ash and Glass

A Veil of Ash and Glass

Romance
last updateปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-01-07
โดย:  Lexy Estoestaยังไม่จบ
ภาษา: English
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สแกนรหัสเพื่ออ่านบนแอป

คำโปรย

Dark Romance

Drama

Heir/Heirness

Hidden Identity

Love-Triangle

Hate to Love

Steamy

Superpower

Possessive

Behind the walls of St. Valen’s Academy, privilege and legacy are masks — worn to hide the rot underneath. For Althea Sombra, the masks are literal. Her family’s empire is built on secrets whispered in the dark, on powers that can never be spoken of in daylight. She was raised to obey, to charm, to control. But when the storm inside her begins to wake, even obedience can’t contain it. Noah Laurent was bred for composure — heir to a dynasty that trades in precision and power. Yet one glance from Althea cracks the ice he was born to wear. He knows she’s dangerous. He also knows he can’t stay away. Luca Ashford has always been the wildfire Noah could control. Until Althea arrives. Until jealousy and desire blur into something neither of them can name — and their friendship begins to splinter beneath the weight of her silence. When a ghost from Althea’s training resurfaces — a man who once called her his greatest weapon — the careful balance at St. Valen’s shatters. Fear tightens its grip. Loyalties fracture. And the girl with the storm in her blood must decide: to remain a shadow … or burn the world that built her.

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26
Chapter 1: The House that Remembers
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Chapter 2: Vestiges in the Dark
West Hall smelled like old money trying to pretend it wasn’t haunted.The corridor swallowed sound. Dark wainscoting, stone beneath, portraits of dead benefactors whose eyes had that same faint sheen of judgment she’d seen on Manila judges and senators. Here, the wealth wasn’t new and anxious; it was ancient and bored.Umbra moved beside her with a soundless, steady stride, each shift of muscle fluid under his dark coat. He stayed close enough that his shoulder brushed her thigh on every third step. His head was up, nostrils flaring, reading the place the way she read people.“Old teeth,” she whispered in Tagalog. “Luma na, pero matalim pa rin.” It’s old, but still sharp.Noah walked ahead of them with the unthinking precision of someone who had grown up in halls like this. His blazer fit like it had been tailored straight onto his body: clean lines, expensive cloth, that unforgiving white shirt against sun-gold skin and pale hair. From the side, he looked carved, not born.Luca kept p
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Chapter 3: Where The Stone Watches
Noah Laurent had always been good at control. It was the only thing St. Valen’s respected more than money.Control your posture.Control your voice.Control your future.He had done all of it perfectly—quiet golden boy, heir apparent, mask carved into symmetry.Then Althea Sombra walked onto campus, and his calm cracked like glass hit by a stone. He felt it still, hours later.That moment in the courtyard when she appeared in black, every line of her deliberate and unbothered, Umbra shadowing her like a demon forged to protect her alone—he could feel it in his bones.And worse: he wanted more.He’d stopped himself from staring when she passed between him and Luca, chin tipped with that deceptively soft defiance. He’d even succeeded. Barely.But now, he was doing something far more embarrassing.He was looking for her.Not obviously.Not enough for anyone to notice.Just… tracking the way the crowd shifted, the echo of Umbra’s nails on stone, the hush that followed wherever she stepped.
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Chapter 4: Lessons in Almost
By the time Friday crept in, St. Valen’s had already learned her name.Not properly. Not the way that mattered. But in the way that traveled fastest in places like this: through whispers and warped retelling.The new girl from Manila.The Sombra heiress.The one with the Rottweiler.The one who told Luca Ashford “no” and smiled while she did it.Althea heard versions of herself she didn’t recognize drifting behind her in corridors.Temper, they said.Wild.Dangerous.One girl in the bathroom had whispered, “Her family’s old old money, you know, like pre-colonial land,” as if that explained why her shadow walked on four legs and watched everyone like a second pair of eyes.She let it roll off. Gossip was just the weather. Let them predict storms.They had no idea what a real one looked like.Classes helped—a little. Political theory. Ethics. Economics.She played the obedient student, taking neat notes, asking precise questions, and resisting the urge to correct professors when they ski
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Chapter 5: The Cost of Looking Back
By the time dawn dragged itself over St. Valen’s, Althea still hadn’t really slept. She’d done the thing her father hated most: replayed.Every word in the corridor. Every breath. Every almost.Noah’s hand braced beside her head—his thumb at her jaw. That quiet, wrecked admission: No. Not even a little.Her body remembered it in heat. Her mind remembered it in threat assessment.The text from Manila glared at her from the nightstand where she’d tossed her phone.R. Sombra:We hear you’ve made an impression already, anak. Remember the name you carry.Elegant. Piercing. Claustrophobic.She hadn’t answered. She also hadn’t deleted it. Coward.Umbra sprawled across the end of her bed, the Rottweiler bulk a familiar weight. One paw twitched in a dream, his lips moving around a phantom growl, like he was chasing something only he could see.“Traitor,” she murmured, reaching to scratch between his ears. “You slept.”He cracked one eye open, huffed, and lifted his massive head onto her stomach
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Chapter 6: Before The Fall
The gala was a week away. For St. Valen’s, it was a tradition. For Althea, it was a countdown.Noah’s collision with her in the corridor—the way he had jerked back like he had touched fire—had been a correction. A punishment. A reminder that what had almost happened between them wasn’t warmth; it was a lapse he regretted. His horror had not been about her; it had been about being seen. And Luca’s quiet dagger of a comment kept echoing: “He’ll always choose the mask.”Humiliation burned in her chest, sharp and bitter. Then came her family’s email, and the blade twisted deeper.The week blurred into a hollow, tightening panic.Her magic—the seismic, wild thing that lived under her ribs—had gone quiet.Not calm.Not sleeping.Just… watching.Waiting.She tried to train her mind instead, the way her lola had demanded: sit, breathe, control.She sat cross-legged on the floor, Umbra’s head heavy on her lap, a single unlit candle placed before her. The room was dim. Cold. Too still. She breat
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Chapter 7: The Quiet Before The Fracture
Hiraya didn’t knock; she didn’t need to. The air told her something was wrong before the door even finished swinging open. Her gaze snapped straight to Althea. Her fingers brushed Althea’s wrist—barely a touch—and she jerked back like she’d been burned. Her breath hitched sharply. Umbra lifted his head from the bed, hackles rising, sensing both the magic and the fear.“What did you do?” Hiraya whispered. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t disappointment. It was dread. Pure, sickening dread.Althea swallowed hard. “Ate… I didn’t mean to. It was just—”“You did,” Hiraya breathed. The softness people adored in her was gone. She stepped inside and shut the door with surgical precision, like noise alone could trigger a collapse. “You flared.”Althea’s heart dropped.Hiraya’s voice dropped lower, sharp as a kris. “You lit the Beacon.”“No,” Althea whispered. “No, it wasn’t like that. I just—I got overwhelmed and—"“And you wanted him.” Hiraya’s eyes, dark and ancient in the way only a Babaylan’s cou
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Chapter 8: When Glass Remembers Blood
The pop was small. But it was the kind of sound ancient families had learned never to ignore—a single crack, sharp and pure, slicing through violins and laughter and centuries of etiquette.Althea’s champagne glass shattered in her hand. Shards flashed like tiny stars across the polished marble floor. A sliver of crystal bit deep into her palm, blood blooming instantly - bright, indecent red against flawless event lighting.The room fell silent.Magic slammed up her spine, vicious and uncoiled, a pressure wave that made the world tilt. Pain seared behind her eyes. The scent of burnt sugar - her tell - coated the air like something molten.Althea staggered.Umbra wasn’t there. They’d forced her to attend without him. She was alone inside a storm she couldn’t leash.Across the ballroom -Noah moved. Georgina barely managed a startled “Noah?” as he tore his arm out of her grasp. He pushed through the crowd before anyone else reacted.“Althea!”But her family moved faster.Hiraya reached h
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Chapter 9: The Gallery of Fractures
Althea didn’t run. Running meant prey. She walked, fast and precise, her heels striking the marble like a countdown—the ballroom behind her pulsed with light and noise and the aftershock of shattered glass. Ahead, the west wing corridor waited: cooler, dimmer, the air thinning as if even oxygen knew better than to linger.Her palm throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Blood seeped sluggishly between her fingers, warm and sticky. The scent of burnt sugar clung to her skin, a phantom of the magic still swarming under her bones.Contain.Contain.Contain.She forced each breath through her teeth, shallow and measured. The last thing she was going to do was detonate in the middle of the school. She had enough enemies. She didn’t need to add “mass murderer” to the list.The gallery doors loomed at the end of the corridor. Tall, carved, smug.She pushed them open.Inside, the silence had weight. Paintings of benefactors and dead saints lined the walls, oil and varnish and gilt frames, all wat
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Chapter 10: The House That Holds Its Breath
The walk from the gallery to the courtyard was too bright, too exposed, and too quiet.Ricardo’s hand stayed at the small of Althea’s back—a steady pressure that wasn’t force but command. The jacket he wrapped around her was heavy across her shoulders, its warmth a barrier between her skin and the air that had seen too much.Hiraya and Odesa flanked them like shadows that had learned to take human shape. No one spoke. No one dared step into their path. Students parted at the edges of the hall, uncertain whether they were witnessing a rescue or the prologue to war.The night outside was cold, the courtyard lit by soft lanterns and the distant sound of violins that still played, oblivious.The black car waited with its engine humming. Ricardo guided her in and closed the door behind them. The lock clicked with the finality of a sealed vault. The car pulled away before anyone had a chance to breathe.A long minute passed.Then Ricardo said, quietly, “Look at me.”She did.His expression w
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