An Ember In The Ashes Series Novels & Stories

After all, they had seen Gordon in action—he was a walking nightmare in combat. As they turned to leave, Aspen's eyes instinctively swept across the ground one last time. Then, she noticed a patch of mud—dark, slick, and oddly rotted. The putrid smell hit her nostrils a second later, making her stomach churn. The mud looked more like decomposing flesh than ordinary soil. Her gaze locked on a small object sticking out of the foul mess. It glinted faintly under the dim light. Aspen crouched, swallowing the bile rising in her throat, and picked it up. It was a jagged piece of metal. The second it touched her palm, the locator in her pocket beeped frantically.

Ash’s POV The roar of the clubhouse hit me before I even turned off my engine. Laughter, shouts and the sound of bottles clinking rent the air and for a moment, I wonder how they could easily fall back into their normal lives less than twelve hours after an attack. It was chaos the way I remembered it, but somehow louder and more… non challant. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat. A few brothers cheered when they saw me, others nodded, their eyes sharp, reading me like they weren’t sure what version of Ash had come back.

This was a painting she’d done herself, the meaning of which would be lost on anyone who didn’t know the secrets hidden in the artwork. It was a self-portrait of sorts, though the girl in the painting didn’t really look like her. She wore a bright red dress and reclined on a slab of stone, leaning up on one elbow. Her hair was a darker brown than Ella’s had ever been, her eyes a shade that looked nothing like Ella Verona’s or Juliet Montague’s, and it would’ve been easy for even the toughest of art critics to mistake the slab for a bed. The piece was publicly titled, “Emerging,” and whenever anyone asked, Juliet would simply say it was a piece that captured what it was like to suddenly have

“Let me help you, Rose.” “It wouldn't hurt, would it?” She asked with a shaky voice. “Have I ever hurt you?” I got no reply to that. “Okay…so how do you get in?” She asked instead. “Close your eyes and try to breathe evenly; you could do that, right?” “Y..yes, please Emmet hurried up. The only strength I've got is on my tongue, my body is closing up on me.” Just as she spoke, I turned into a thick cloud of ash. My eyes went into flames.

“It doesn't look like you're fine, and honestly if I were to say something, I'd say you're a better character than I am, I don't know about your current situation, or status or anything, and even if I knew, I'm not sure I know how to solve them, I mean the experience is like a celebrity trying to wash dishes, so whatever it is that you're hesitant to share, i just feel letting it out sometimes will makes you feel light of the burdens.” A better character? I bet she wouldn't say that, if she met Maverick Nightshade, would she still say that when she knew my intentions? When she knew everything Maverick Nightshade touched gets burned to dust? “Yeah, everything is fine when you're so perfect.”

choosing the enemy'' Ember's vision began to tunnel, the edges darkening until everything was a hazt, spinning vortex. Her legs buckled and she crumpled to the ground, her head throbbing. Her mom rushed towards her almost immediately. She lay there, her eyes fluttering closed, a fleeting whispered through her mind. ''Maybe this death...and would that be so bad?'' '' It is peaceful after all'' ********* Ember slowly opened her eyes, groggily taking in her surroundings. She was in her room, the familiar walls and furniture a comforting sight. Her bed, with its soft, white blankets. The room was silent, the only sound her own ragged breathing.

Ember got to her feet to tell Thunder she doesn't want to deal with anyone yet but before she could Icen stopped her. “You needed to rest. I'll take good care of that bastard.” “Please do it for me.” She told him, relieving a sigh. Icen got out of her room and when the door closed Ember lay down on the warm bed. She could no longer hear Thunder's desperate plea, making her wonder what Icen did to completely get rid of him. She was thankful that he dealt with her ex because she's just not in the mood to deal with anyone. As she closed her eyes, the last memory she had before losing consciousness was a flashback of herself drowning in a pool. She couldn't explain where the memory came from but

The chairs creaked as Simon and Jeff shifted in their seats, maintaining an air of authority in the room. Amidst the dim lighting, the smoke from Simon and Jeff's cigarettes hung in the air, creating an eerie ambiance. The smoke wafted toward Samuel and Abigail, making it difficult for them to breathe comfortably. As they inhaled the smoke involuntarily, their eyes watered and their discomfort grew. Simon and Jeff continued their conversation, their voices low and commanding. Samuel and Abigail listened intently, unable to comprehend the true nature of the situation they were in. The room seemed to close in around them, and their feelings of vulnerability intensified.

The journey to the Ember Peaks was fraught with tension. The group traveled through increasingly hostile terrain, the once-vibrant forests giving way to barren fields of scorched earth. Ash hung in the air, staining the horizon with a perpetual red haze. Each step brought them closer to the Peaks, but it also brought an increasing sense of unease. The land seemed alive with unseen eyes, every shadow shifting as if Morgana’s influence crept even here. “We’re getting close,” Elysia said, her voice muffled by the scarf she had pulled over her face to block the ash.

Hermione got up slowly from her seat and headed for the stairs. In she was in Ruke’s room. She needed space to process the ghastly revelation, she was so tired. First, her mother had left and now she was going to lose her mate because of some stupid reincarnation bullshit. At that moment she knew that there was going to be another war, it was coming and she wasn’t going to waste the time she had with her mate brooding. She stood up and made for the door. Her hands were inches from the doorknob when it was opened from the outside and Ruke walked in, his hair wet. “I used Raphael’s bathroom, figured you needed space.