Ash X Miette Novels & Stories

Tears streamed down my face, dripping into my father's ashes and staining them dark. I did not wipe my face. I did not respond to Stella. I did not look at Hudson, who stood beside her with an undisguised smirk. I reached out with trembling hands, gathering the ashes little by little, trying to put them back into the urn. "I'm sorry, Dad... I'm so sorry... this is my fault..." Hudson had his arm around Stella's waist. He let out a theatrical sigh. "Damon, don't take it too hard. The man is already dead. Besides, this was your own carelessness..."

and a particularly large Lycan “asher” She looked around. "They are close friends. I’ll introduce the others after the meeting" she finished. Ruke stood up and faced the many lycans present. He wasted no time in telling them he had found his mate, after which he beckoned Lang Lang to speak to them about the prophecy. When she had finished, a very blonde Lycan with a mole on his nose spoke up, ”what have we got to do with the prophecy,“ he asked, witha bored look on his face.

He says. I turn my attention back to the screen. I watch in amazement as someone dumps liquid on him, then tosses a match. The screen turns white from the extreme brightness. However, I continue to stare at the screen as if my life depends on it. I'm able to keep focused on the body on the screen, watching in shock how it never moves, rather only turns into ash. "Does this mean?" I begin, not sure how to ask. "Yes. It's really over, my love." Xavier says, kissing me, then pulling me tight against him.

There was a loud crash, which scared everyone there. My ashes scattered everywhere. Jasper still felt angry. He laughed disdainfully and stepped on my ashes, grinding them with the sole of his shoe. The staff members' jaws had dropped in shock. They hadn't even had time to stop him. Jasper kicked my ashes and sent them flying. "Tell Amara that she came up with a very innovative trick this time round, but it's lame. I'm not going to waver at all, no matter whether she's dead or alive!

Axel is still my mate. Axel is still my mate!

She located the first aid kit, and ensured that there was alcohol, antiseptic, and Band-Aids, then she returned to the bedroom, just as Asher made his way inside. Anise disappeared from sight after sending Miranda a final reassuring nod. Asher looked over at Miranda. He tried to glare her way as he sized her suspiciously, before he headed to the bathroom without a word. He closed the door behind him and turned on the faucet. Asher washed his hands, and the water burned his cuts. He gathered water in his palms and splashed them on his face, then over his head and down his naked neck. Asher removed his shirt and washed cool water over his skin again.

he mutters, “once the mask is off, he’ll get sloppy.” Milo’s curled in the corner of the couch, knees pulled up, hands tucked inside his sleeves, he hasn’t said much since last night, and with Milo quiet isn’t empty, it’s him turning the whole thing over and over in his head like a puzzle piece he’s not sure fits yet. The silver inside me feels watchful, almost still. “Post exposure instability rising,” the presence notes, “likelihood of deliberate provocation, moderate to high.” “Provocation meaning,” I ask under my breath.

His focus went back to what he held in his hands and that stirred up some questions in my head that I had to ask. He spoke calmly and that reduced the tension in the room. “Are you some type of a genie?” “It’s not a kettle, it's an urn.” “Do you live there?” “I just said I'm a wolf shifter, young girl?” He always has this 5-7 seconds of uncomfortable pause before he speaks, like he tries to formulate words in his head. “My ashes were kept there.” His throat worked Your ash? Please, Emmett, make everything you're saying make sense and be more realistic

Just a very offended heart. “I only washed it,” Dianna corrected, still watching the TV. “Soap, warm water, machine. No sulfuric acid involved.” “MAMI KILLED MY SMELL,” Ash shot back, louder. I knelt beside him. My hands wanted to scoop him up, calm him down. The brain that had just finished swatting away a shareholder lawsuit at court gave a different order: assess the scene first. “Ash,” I called. “Look at me.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, shifting on his knees. His breath hitched. “Papi… Mami… mean.”