Ash And Mallow Novels & Stories

A never-ending stream of guilt that falls, and falls, and falls until my eyes are swollen and there are no more tears to cry. “I-it hurts.” “I know, honey, but if you don’t calm down, you’re going to make yourself sick.” I push the heels of my palms into my eyes before looking up at Healer Asha. She offers a broken smile and a mug of steaming tea. “I know it won’t help much, but it’ll make you feel less nauseous,” she says softly, setting the mug in my hands. “Moon Moss is very good for getting rid of morning sickness.”

It smells like smoke and old money. Ash fits in like a predator among his own kind. “Let me do most of the talking,” he says under his breath. “And for the love of all things unholy, do not mention Malcolm.” Noted. I clamp my mouth shut and try to channel the icy calm I don’t actually possess. This is for Hilda. And the pack. A waitress appears, all heels and red lipstick. Ash flashes her a smile so charming, I almost believe it’s genuine. He orders something I can’t pronounce, which is undoubtedly ruinously expensive, and she practically purrs her approval.

He handed me a small cup half filled with water and I took a sip, soothing my throat and calming my nerves. “Thank you sir.” He smiled, collecting the cup from me. I stared from the pan at the smoke, watching it swirl around Ronan’s bed like a cloud. He must have noticed me staring at it as he cleared his throat. “The smoke of Ashara.” “What?” I asked, turning to face him. “That is its name, the smoke of Ashara, produced by burning Ashara roots. The first time I heard of it was when my father used it for his father when he became unconscious after a fall.”

Audrey’s breath fogged up the glass as she stood at the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The world outside was quiet, still mockingly so. The moon hung high, casting its pale light on the garden Larry had planted for her two years ago, when he still loved her, or at least when he still tried to. She scoffed under her breath. “Love,” she whispered bitterly, “what a pathetic illusion.”

King Sylvan commanded, his voice as calm as the wind. Lord Thorne, Councilor of Shadows, gestured with long, elegant fingers. The centre of the moonstone table clouded, then cleared to reveal the image of a clearing near the eastern border of Eldoria. In the centre lay a pile of fine white ash in the vague shape of a humanoid figure. "The remains of Veridian Aspen, Your Majesty," Lord Thorne reported, his voice devoid of emotion. "Found by the border patrols. Nothing remained but ash." Queen Elara leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied the image. "No Fae has been reduced to ash in that manner since the Great Wars," she observed, her melodic voice carrying an edge of steel. "What m

"Where are the elixirs?" A tall shadow on the floor crossed Adeline's barely open eyes. The shadow was of a bulky man, his frame strong and sturdy, and on his hand was a whip. When his deep voice reached Adeline's faraway consciousness, the hairs at the back of her neck stood up. She clenched her fist in anger, despite losing every inch of her being. "We... don't have... such thing," Adeline replied in a hoarse voice, gritting her teeth.

She finally understood. Everything she had, everything she was, was truly over. And I, a spirit in the moonlight, watched it all unfold. There was no joy, no relief. Only a profound emptiness. Revenge could not fill the void in my heart. A vampire turned to ash can never come back.

Every time Cyrus smelled shortbread cookies, he would run to the door with a wide grin to greet her. But Jennifer never knew the truth. My son had asthma. He did not like dry, crumbly shortbread cookies at all. What he loved was seeing Jennifer come home safe. A hollow ache spread through my chest, yet I forced a faint smile. "Thanks." Jennifer let out a quiet breath of relief. She hesitated for a moment before she spoke. "Andy, I want to talk to you about something."

When Malcolm saw it, he froze for a beat. It was pork stew with pears. Pear, as in "pair". I used to joke I'd make it the day we stopped being one. Without noticing the subtle shift in Malcolm’s expression, Ashley had already taken the stew. She'd barely had a bite when she jolted and dumped the plate on me. I stood there, a mess, stew dripping off me, while she covered her mouth like she hadn't meant it. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry. It was too hot, and I wasn't holding it properly…"

The wedding is going public courtesy of Aslan. She shifted in her sleep, her brows furrowing,forming a tight frown. Her breathing turned shallow and I caught sight of a single tear sliding down her cheeks. I clenched my fists, I know she's hurting and it's killing me inside. I gently wiped the droplet with the back of my hand. Picking up her hand gently ,I slid my ring back into her finger. Then I reached forward and placed a kiss on it. “ I love you.” I whispered hoping she'd hear me say it in her dreams.