Ashes Of The Kingdom Novels & Stories

The smoke had not yet cleared. The champion loomed at the edge of sight, unmoving, its chains rattling faintly like distant thunder. The air was heavy with ash, the scent of scorched earth clinging to every breath. Mae stood stiff in the silence, her chains dimming to a low violet glow, their energy coiling restlessly beneath her skin. Ashar was the first to break the stillness. His blade lowered, flames guttering into faint embers. His voice carried the weight of grief. “Kaine is gone.”

He raised his black iron hand, throwing a small glass orb down onto the flagstones at his feet. The orb shattered with a sharp crack, releasing a blinding flash of green sulfur smoke that instantly filled the inner passage, blinding the Ironwood soldiers and swallowing the warlord’s massive frame in darkness. By the time the green fog cleared, the Ashen King was gone. But six of his heavy rogues remained, fighting with a suicidal, desperate ferocity to block the narrow archway. "Push them back!" Captain Vane barked, his longsword hacking down into a rogue’s wooden shield. "Drive them into the gorge!"

A Kingdom of Ashes The blood hung in the air like an acrid miasma, a sickly sweet reminder of all they had lost, of all they had broken, of all they had become. Victoria looked out over the remnants of the ruins, the chill wind swirling her hair, the moon laying long shadows across the remains of the battlefield. The bodies had been cleared, the fires extinguished, but the ghosts remained, lingering in the silence, whispering in the dark,

He began to step backward, his physical form dissolving into a column of swirling, superheated volcanic ash. "A true King does not steal his bride in the dark," the Dragon King’s voice echoed from the ash cloud as he ascended into the bleeding sky. "I will burn your little empire to the ground, Killian Blackwood. And when there is nothing left but ash, my Queen will fly to me." The ash scattered, carried away by the hurricane winds, leaving Killian and me alone on the shattered glass beach. The honeymoon was over. The world was on fire. Killian didn't roar. He extinguished his flaming broadsword and turned to me, his golden eyes filled with the cold, absolute logic of a warlord whose family

A Kingdom of Ash and Wolves Kieran's POV The orchard was a black scar beneath a slate-gray sky when the dawn wind blew the last embers into the frozen field. Kieran stood on the ridge, boots sunk ankle-deep in new snow that fell soft and indifferent over the burned bodies of the Iron Sons and the men he'd once called kin. The smell of scorched roots still clung to his cloak, a bitter perfume of victory that tasted like rust in his mouth.

Hers. We remain like this for a long time, standing under the water that gradually cools, entwined in the dissipating steam. Washing nothing from each other. Confirming to one another the extent of the damage. My queen is back in my arms. But her kingdom is in ashes. And I, her king, am nothing more than the arsonist watching over the embers, hoping, against all reason, that one day something will grow back from them.

She was not a prize to be fought over, and her glare told us both as much. This wasn’t the end of a war. It was the beginning of a new one, a battle far more personal and treacherous than any I had ever fought. The King of Ashes had just met his dark reflection, and the fight for his crown, his city, and the woman he loved had just begun.

Ash bows his head graciously, “Asher Wild, Prince to the Vampire King of England. But please, call me Ash. Everyone does, it feels weird to have people say my full name now.” The king bows his head, “Her loss, if only temporary, is felt keenly here.” Luther says, and Ash nods,

I kneel, brush the ashes from the cracked stone, and whisper to the dark, “You promised me forever.” The wind answers, carrying the scent of salt and steel. And for a heartbeat, I swear I hear his voice — low, sharp, haunting — whispering my name again. “Amara.” I turn. And there he is. Standing in the ruins, rain dripping from his hair, eyes like burning coals. Alive. My chest tightens, the air ripped from my lungs. For a moment, neither of us moves. The world holds its breath. Then he steps closer, voice a rasp. “You built a kingdom from the ashes, cara mia. But tell me — do you still know how to burn?”

He came out as soon as he heard my bike. “What happened? I am not supposed to see you for a couple of days” He looked at me worried and I knew his anxiety was going nuts. “I have some information that might interest you” I grinned as I walked past him into his house. I went to the kitchen and flicked on the jug. He sat at the dining room table and watched me. “What kind of news?” “I know who The King is.” “No one knows who he is, he is like a ghost.” “Oh, I know, and the bastard has something that belongs to me.”