Burning Ashes Novels & Stories

Pieces of burning debris rained down like falling meteors, sizzling as they hit the water. My lungs burned. My strength was completely gone. I couldn't swim. I couldn't fight the heavy current pulling my dress toward the bottom. As my eyes slowly drifted closed, floating in the dark sea beneath the burning sky, a single, solitary thought echoed in my fading mind: Let them believe I died in the fire. Suddenly, two powerful, gloved arms broke through the burning surface above, plunging into the dark water and locking tightly around my waist, dragging my sinking body toward an approaching shadow in the deep.

The flickering firelight cast shadows on our faces, as if it were burning through our very souls. I remembered Neil Black’s fondness for flowers and plants. He would spend hours tending to them at Maria's home, often talking to them as if they were old friends. That serene and harmonious scene was still vivid in my mind. Now, the crematorium felt so desolate, a stark contrast to the warmth and tranquility he once embodied. Upon hearing that there was a nearby garden offering floral burials, we decided to take Neil’s ashes there. The garden was lush and beautiful, as if the flowers he once cherished were greeting us. We carefully scattered the ashes among the flowerbeds, completing the reviva

"Then why does it matter?" "Because there's an older name too, for the ones who never learned it. Who could only call fire large, uncontained, all or nothing." Hesper's voice had gone quieter, more careful. "The accounts call them unbound flame. Not a compliment. Every unbound Ashwalker in the old records ends the same way — burned through everyone around them long before they burned through whatever enemy they were meant to fight. It's not really about the leaf, Elena. It's about which of those two things you become."

The elder’s heels scraped desperately against the flagstones, his breath catching in a dry, rattling gasp as he was hoisted inches off the ground by raw, unadulterated Alpha fury. "You thought you could bury the truth in the ashes of a burning estate," Julian growled, his voice a low, vibrating baritone that rattled the reinforced steel bars above them. His golden eyes burned with an unnatural, lethal luminance, the primal side of his nature threatening to break free entirely. "You thought you could use my name to slaughter an innocent pack and pin it on a ghost."

"Memories don't wait for convenience, Mr. Voss. If there's a chance she can identify the arsonist, we need to take it." Eve squeezed Alex's hand. "It's okay. I need to do this." The east wing was a tomb. Charred beams, water-stained walls, the faint outline of furniture reduced to skeletons. The smell of smoke was thicker here, acrid and choking. Eve's steps faltered as they reached the master bedroom, or what remained of it. Flashes hit her — not real memories, but vivid nightmares fed by KJ's files and her own guilt: Sophia screaming, flames climbing the curtains, a man's silhouette in the doorway.

The wolf carrying the camera rushed over and pointed it where they indicated. The rain had washed the ashes into streaks of black running downhill from where the fire had taken place. It looked like some sort of ink or paint that had been lazily brushed across the dirt and gravel. With the ashes cleared the other contents of the fire became visible. Bones. Thousands of them. There were too many to sort out at first. The fire had clearly burned hot, but not hot enough.

The wind scattered the ashes, and the rain soaked them, washing them away little by little amidst the flowing water. Sheila fell out of her wheelchair and hit the ground. Ignoring the pain, she crawled toward the drain, desperately trying to gather the ashes with her hands. It was hopeless. "My baby… My baby..." She could only watch as her child's ashes slowly disappeared. There was nothing she could do. It felt as though someone had torn her heart apart. She knelt in the mud, sobbing as she reached deep into the drain again and again. Her hands quickly became caked with filth, but she kept searching.

After we got engaged, my fiancee sent a child from abroad. She also sent an email along with it. [Noah, I was so bored overseas that I accidentally had a baby with Raivo Fallon. Since you’ve always been so eager to suck up to me, I’ll leave this child in your care. You can get some practice ahead of time so you’ll be ready to be our caregiver when I return home to Abrein.] Without a word, I handed the child over to the butler. Seven years later, all the CEOs stationed overseas returned to Abrein for their performance reviews. Laina Miller drove up in a Raypach, leading a large entourage that blocked me at the entrance to the Miller family residence. She held a cigarette between her li

Yoel had already planned to get rid of his companies and assets slowly, and the person receiving them was me. I had already learned about all the things that had happened recently. For example, after I fainted, Yoel exposed the painting Rosa had stolen, and it destroyed her reputation. He didn't take back the art gallery and all the paintings and jewelry he had given to her. Instead, he burned everything to the ground. As the flames burned, he said with a smile, "You've messed with a devil, Rosa. No one else will donate their kidneys to you now, so you should just wait for your death in pain. You're the one who has fallen from grace."

That ritual involved burning myrrh and mimicking a monk's apology tour. Usually, if the ghoul had already been exposed to light, burning the myrrh alone could send it back into dormancy. While Darius had no myrrh with him the torches on the wall were good enough. In his mind, adaptability was survival, and he felt pretty damn proud of himself for thinking on his feet.