Ashy Sky Novels & Stories

The archway shimmered like a dying star, its silver edges fraying into ash. Beyond it, dawn bled pale pink across the real world’s sky, so close Ava could almost smell pine and wet earth instead of the Hollow’s scorched-iron stench. Yet every step seemed to stretch the distance, the path a living, twisting vein of black soil.

After ordering and the pre-order went, Casya replied to Sky. “Take a bar. It’s a beautiful place, don’t have a problem! I believe I will be gorgeous…” Casya hanging her words made Sky raise her successful side of her eyebrows, always shook Casya upset, “...do you want me the same?” In one breath, the word just came out. “Ukhuk!” Sky was stunned surprised. She knew Casia liked him. Giving signals or codes but not being clear because it was like throwing a bomb in front of him. Even though he knew, he was surprised to hear his statement directly.

“I want to see the wild version of you.” Azxel’s breath wavered, he was filled with happiness, he was finally going to be wild like Sky, maybe get a tattoo he had seen on Sky's back when they had their moments. He liked the tattoo but he dare not talk about it, it looked real, too real. Sky had a tattoo of a beast and it felt like the beast was alive. He finally got the courage to talk, "You mean, wild… like you?” Sky chuckled quietly, leaning in until Azxel felt his breath on his neck. “Why don’t you try being like me?”

he said cheerfully. The sun was beaming, hinting at a bright future ahead. Cecilia smiled back and simply said, "Yes."

Seeing me there, sitting in silence, not even bothering to look back, her face went ashen, her lips quivering. Jack, for his part, was past caring about her cold shoulder. His mind was racing to get her out of there. He wanted to take her back home where he could smoothly talk to her, use my aloofness to snuff out the flicker of love that was lighting up in her heart again.

MEANWHILE – DEAN’S MANSION | SKYE'S ROOM Skye lay on her bed, her face buried in her pillow as soft sobs escaped her lips. Her friend, Paisley a white-skinned girl, sat beside her, gently rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe her. “Skye, please stop crying already. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Paisley murmured, concerned. “Leave me alone. How could he do that to me?” Skye’s voice trembled between her tears. “He ditched me and didn’t even bother to send a message since last night.”

“Burned how?” Priya shook her head; her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Not just a spill or a shock. It’s…he’s…scorched. Like something marked him.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and moved briskly down the corridor toward the east wing, Isla close behind.

It wanted to fall into place. I forced my breath steady, the way my mother taught me, the way you steady your hands before stitching a wound. Then I spoke the only words that had ever worked. “ASH.” Black cinders rose off the floor, spiraling around the circle. The runes flared, resisting, but the ash didn’t care. It tightened, thickened, becoming a wall—around Dax’s ankles, around the etched lines, smothering the glow. For one heartbeat, the pull on him eased.

The asylum sat at the edge of the city on a bluff overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea, its facade elegant in the way old, quiet buildings tended to be when nobody wanted to draw attention to what actually happened inside them. Eve stood at the gate in plain civilian clothes, no mask, no tactical vest, Aria and Ryan holding the perimeter two blocks out per Alex's insistence that this meeting happen with as few visible weapons as possible. Her heart hammered a rhythm that had nothing to do with combat readiness and everything to do with the fact that she was, in a matter of minutes, going to look at a face she'd spent years being told belonged to a dead man.

Once he was done, Asher sighed deeply, feeling an excitement boil in his chest, as he couldn't wait to welcome his son home. Asher's eyes looked out the nursery's window. The sun had begun setting in the west, and in the east, the full, grey moon began rising above the clouds. Standing at the second story of his mansion, Asher could see over the pine trees of the forest that bordered the east end of his pack grounds. He approached the window and looked out onto the world before him. Birds could be heard singing their last tunes for the day. Asher looked down on the village area below him. The children were being called in by their mothers as the evening began settling its dark shade in the s