A Shadow In The Ember Spicy Chapters Novels & Stories

I struggle to break free, but he is stronger than I am, and my vision darkens around the edges. ---Divina--- My hand is wrenched away from my "savior" and I blink in confusion as I once again gain control of my faculities. What the hell just happened? I hear a gasp and an cynical chuckle and everything comes into focus and I watch in horror as the darkness grips Ember around her neck and I can feel her life slipping away. Just like I felt Warrick’s slip away. I failed him, but I will be damned if I fail little Ember. Red hot anger courses through my veins and I use it to find the strength to push myself onto my hands and knees. Where her little hands grip his wrist, small flames dance and he

When the last piece came off, Tobias shook violently. "I can feel it," he gasped. "The fire. It wants out." "Then let it out. In small amounts. Controlled." I held out my hand. "Send a thread of fire into my palm. Just a thread." "I will burn you." "I am Shadowborn. Fire is part of me. You cannot burn me." Hesitantly, he extended his hand toward mine. A thin stream of white-hot flame emerged. It was intense. Hotter than any fire I had felt before. But I held steady, letting my own power absorb and redirect it. "Good. Now pull it back."

She could have kicked herself for being so stupid. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Faye chastised herself for not bringing a flashlight as the darkness grew more palpable with every step she took. The grave with the angelic headstone she had seen in her dream was in the older section of the cemetery and she made her way through overgrown tombstones and briars to reach it. When she finally stood before it, Faye gasped, as in the darkness by a flash of lightening, she saw the name it bore. . . .

she shouted suddenly. Her voice was stronger now. Louder. The ground beneath her exploded outward in a sharp wave. Not violent. But powerful. The shadow recoiled instantly. Pulled back like it had been burned. Emily stepped forward this time. Not back. Her breathing steadied. Her eyes focused. “You don’t get to take from me,” she said. The words were simple. But strong. The shadow hesitated. Then it moved again. Faster. Angrier. It lunged toward her.

I said, willing her to continue. She grimaced as she wrapped a hand around my arm. Her hand felt warm to the touch and I looked into her eyes waiting for the supposed shoe to drop. I didn't feel anything, and couldn't help wondering if this was how the men felt disintegrating into ash in the bookshop before Ember incinerated them. "I'm not burnt to ashes yet," I said thoughtfully looking at Ember's hand clutching around my forearm. She blinked out of shock. "Nothing happened. You are still here…"

She always knew how to survive. But I had no room left for politics. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ember’s face under that light—half fury, half fire. I couldn’t tell if she was calling for me or warning me away. We moved through the burnt valleys at dawn, ash crunching under our boots. Scouts reported strange shadows hunting in the woods, things that wore the shapes of men but smelled like death. The witch’s shades. I could feel her circling us, waiting. Then I felt her.

Her fingers clutched the amulet, dawn catching her braids, a seer’s warning sharp, her hand trembling, a new vision flickering—dark spires, a sky of ash, a voice not her own. Mara’s hand grazed her dagger, brown eyes blazing, voice sharp, cord gleaming. “Curse, shadow—let it come, I’ll carve its heart out.” Ember snarled, ready. Pack’s pack, Mara—hunt it, guard him. She glanced at Jasper, his warmth her hearth, Sam’s fire her guide. “Jas, you feel that wind? It’s not just ash—it’s calling.”

“Who.” The air dropped in an instant. Breath froze in their lungs, every candle guttering but never quite dying. The chamber seemed to fold inward, as if the walls themselves bent closer, pressing down on their ribs. Then, with a groan that echoed like bones breaking, the seal cracked. From its heart spilled shadow — but not like theirs. Not crow-black. Not familiar. This shadow was older, heavier, soaked in memory. Its edges gleamed red as if dipped in fire. A feather emerged. Long. Brittle. Stained faintly with blood.

The rain came harder now, a relentless downpour that drowned out everything but the crackle of the fire. We’d barely escaped the subway alive, and the creatures chasing us felt closer with every gust of wind. Even here, hidden away in the ruins of a forgotten city, the weight of the hunt pressed against my chest. I glanced at Ember. She sat cross-legged near the fire, her fiery hair casting a faint glow in the flickering light. Her golden eyes darted to the window now and then, her body coiled like she was waiting for something to go wrong. “What are you thinking?” I asked.

Thorne sprang to his feet and gave chase once again, the sun glinting off his fur, his son’s delighted squeals echoing through the hedges. And in that moment, Ember stayed lying where she was, soaking in the warmth with a satisfied smile, not just from the sun, but from the peace she had fought for and finally found. *** END ***