Ash X Gray Novels & Stories

“You enjoy danger.” A faint smile touched his lips. “I’m already exiled. How much worse can it get?” I almost smiled back. “Where is he?” I asked. “Deep in the Ashen Woods. Beyond the broken cliffs. He moves often, but rogues always know where to find him.” The dark, wild and unpredictable Ashen Woods. “Does he truly help?” I asked quietly. Grayson’s expression changed. “I saw his help, once,” he said. “A warrior who had killed his own brother by accident. The guilt was eating him alive. Maverick didn’t erase it. He made him face it. When that warrior left… he could breathe again.”

The guy was ready to ride into the sunset with Christine—an ice-cold, calculating bitch who damn near destroyed him—and now, because she burned him, he thinks it's okay to treat Ashley like shit. I take a step closer, arms still crossed. "You don't get to use your fucked-up marriage as an excuse to be a dick now. Ashley's not Christine. She's loyal, fun, and actually gives a shit about you, not what you can give her. And instead of manning up, you're ghosting her just because shit's getting too real." Gray's eyes flash, a storm brewing behind them. His knuckles whiten around the glass, the vein in his temple pulsing.

He held a small leather pouch in one hand and a glass vial filled with dark ash in the other. “Miss me?” Axel’s voice dripped with arrogance as he tossed the pouch onto the table. “I got what you asked for. Moulton Ash and Grey Sand. Not an easy find, I might add.” Zane stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the pouch. “And what do you want in return?”

“Why do you have so much crap to say?” Grayson fished out his phone and changed to a sim card of an unknown number before calling Angeline. In no time at all, Angeline’s voice rang out. “Hello?” Grayson imitated Ash’s voice immediately and cried out wretchedly, “Mrs. Harts, this is Ash. Please save me. Sir Ares wants to disfigure me and blacklist me. Please make a plea of leniency for me. You know I have family members to take care of. My life will be over if I’m disfigured.”

She is Ashel Damo striving hard to survived from this cruel world, she lives alone since when she is in college. When she graduated with honors, she applied and hired at Grey's Group Of Companies as Executive Secretary of Sr. Deli Grey's who is the owner of the Company. She is happy with her current situation in life, her salary is more than enough to pay for her bills, for her everyday meals, for her clothes to wear and to travel just within the country. Everything was smooth and okay, because she is more than satisfied with her work.

*Ash's POV* “Hi”. I greeted, walking towards the both of them. “Hello. You must be Grey?.Nice to finally meet you”. He replied, with a grin on his face. “Same here. It's Ash by the way”. I replied, trying to hide my sudden irritation. “Forgive me, I know it has something to do with colours.You look really good. Better than I had expected. Your Dad must really have a lot of money for you to be looking this good”.

It was a blatant act of war. “Easton, for the sake of our friendship, can you please let Miranda and Ashley go?” Gray immediately pleaded. He was no longer the cocky Beta he was yesterday. I think he was starting to see the truth about Ashley and Miranda now. But he was still pleading for leniency for them.

My magic, always simmering just below the surface, surges through me. The power is overwhelming, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure. I fall to my knees, palms pressing against the blackened earth. The ash shifts beneath my hands. Shapes bloom out of the black dust like flowers made of shadow and regret. Wraithlike figures with wolf eyes and broken bones. Others are small and hunched, their faces obscured by veils of mist. All of them are etched with faint lines of light. Brands of exile, marks of shame. The signature of the Ash-born.

Sleep eludes me, food tastes like ash, and every time I close my eyes, I'm haunted by the crushing guilt of considering selling my first child for money. For the past hour, I've been sitting at the dining table, listlessly pushing food around my plate. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be eating; it all tastes equally revolting. Finally giving up, I scrape the leftovers into a container and shove it into the fridge, telling myself I'll eat later even though I know I won't. As I'm about to retreat to my room, my phone starts vibrating. I fish it out of my pocket and glance at the caller ID. My stomach drops. It's her. Mrs. Grey. The devil herself.

Still, when Asher reached for her hand beneath the table and laced their fingers together in a subtle, casual gesture, she didn’t pull away. Not when it felt like the most natural thing in the world. The sound of golf carts approaching cut through the ease of the late sun like an off key note in a perfectly composed melody. Asher didn’t look up at first, he was too focused on the faint smile curling at Vera’s lips as she listened to Mr. Grayson recount a story from one of his wild business trips to Spain. But Mr. Grayson’s gaze shifted, sharpening slightly as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, and that was when Asher noticed it.