Ash X Gou Novels & Stories

i say turning and heading for my office. Shoving the doors to my study open i walk in and see my beta lounging in the chair in front of my desk. A solider sitting in the chair next to him. Both of them jumping up and bowing " Alpha Damien i have urgent news from Genral warren". I stop short at his words"what everr it is, it better be good alex" I grumble taking my seat behind my desk grab my quill and ink and start writing. He steps forward a smile wide on his face "the General has reported back" his words snap my attention away from my ink. " They found the rouge out post just outside a village in Mongoria it's two days ride due north" the solider says taking a step forward" but the rouges

“Not him.” I forced my breath steady and spoke like I meant it. “RELEASE.” Ash surged, black and thick, slamming into the circle lines around Dax. The glow dimmed, resisting. The cage law fought back. The Hollow King lifted his fingers lazily, amused. “That word belongs to me.” My wrist mark flared—hot enough to make me cry out—and the ash wall shuddered, thinning. Dax’s boots slid forward again. He crossed the third carved line.

Alex knelt, careful not to touch the scorched earth itself. "Nothing burned this." He murmured, his voice hushed. "No charcoal, no ash. It's just… dead." He leaned closer, sniffing the air, and recoiled. "Gods. That smell. It's faint, but it's here. Like blood left in the sun." My own wolf recoiled, a primal instinct to flee from this defiled place. This was the work of the Weavers. A signature. A taunt. This was where they had unleashed one of their monsters, or perhaps, where they had created it.

Loraine’s Pov As expected, I was their target. I couldn’t help but grit my teeth and glare at them. “Let them go. What do you want from us?” I asked while looking at the two of them coldly. The one who was holding a blooded ax, named Ash, let out a chuckle while showing his broad grin, highlighting how creepy he looked right now. “We will let them go, only if you follow us.” Ash said while grinning from ear to ear, and he even licked his lips, looking at me with those lustful gazes that made me cringe all over.

The runes pulsed like a heartbeat. The shadow paused just beyond the circle. It had no clear form, but hints of a muzzle and claws flickered in and out of existence, as if it couldn’t quite decide what it was. When it opened its mouth, no sound came out — only a ripple of cold that raised gooseflesh on everyone’s skin. Jude whispered, “What the hell…” Lyra’s eyes hardened. “It’s a Hound of Ash,” she said. “He makes them from the wolves who fight him.”

He must’ve seen it. The scent hit harder, making Alex wrinkled his nose. Then I saw it too. Just beyond the treeline. He was wearing a Hood. If we hadn’t seen the footage, we might have mistaken it for a normal werewolf. Except the stench would have betrayed it. “It’s an Ashwolf,” Alex said, alerting the others. I stepped forward, voice low and deadly. “We need this one alive. The other two are dead.” The Ashwolf stood still, as if it knew we were watching. Its head turned slightly, and its black eyes locked with mine through the hood. There was no soul behind that stare. No fear. No hesitation. Just hunger.

Gordon smiles, standing beside the child, the devil on his shoulder. “I am the Black Wolf,” Ashley says, utterly devoid of feeling. Oh f*ck, no.

"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.

"Yes." He nodded toward the notebook. "I'm writing about them." A strange heaviness settled in her chest. Not sadness exactly. Something closer to anticipation. "What are their names?" The question felt ridiculous. She already knew. Yet she asked anyway. His expression softened instantly. The transformation was remarkable. Like sunlight passing across old stone. "My wife is Meher." There it was. The name again. "She loves flowers." A small smile appeared. "Particularly marigolds." Something flickered unexpectedly inside Aisha's memory.

Something older—deeper—threading into the bones of Moonfall Keep. Her fingers glow faintly. Dull. Ash-toned. She inhales sharply. “This wasn’t a shadow,” she says slowly, each word deliberate. “It was absence.” The word hits like a dropped blade. Cain’s voice is low. “Explain.” “Someone burned themselves out of the world,” Maereth continues. “Ash magic. Starved. Broken. The kind that doesn’t cast—it consumes. It leaves nothing behind because there’s nothing left to leave.”