Cinders Ashes Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 82 – Bonds of Fire Rowan barely has time to breathe after driving the flames away from the civilians. The summit is shaking from the force of the clash below, and Ashborne fire lights up the edges of the mountain like a burning river. Azeriel lands beside her, chest rising fast, eyes blazing. “They’re pushing harder,” he says. “Cindar is directing them from the front. He’s not holding back.” “We can handle him,” Rowan replies even though her arms feel heavier than they should.

whispered through the threads. "For eternity," the "Echo-of-Audrey" replied. The "Infinite-Cycle" roared on, a "Perfectly-Imperfect" masterpiece of "Soot," "Spirit," and "Steel." Audrey stood at the center of the council chamber, which was cooled by "Negative-Heat-Vents" to keep the Cinder-born from sublimating into pure logic. The air was thick with the scent of "Ionized-History." Opposite her sat the Prime-Cinder, a being that looked like a shattered stained-glass window held together by a magnetic field. It spoke not in words, but in the "Clatter of Colliding-Angles."

“In ways we never imagined.” Ceres opened the urn and let the ashes fall. Not all at once. She released them slowly, reverently, as if the Codex itself deserved a quiet farewell. The ashes kissed the wind, scattered into currents both air- and waterborne. Some drifted onto the surface of the river. Others clung to her fingers like they didn’t want to leave. She wiped them gently into the stream. “Goodbye,” she whispered. And as the last of the ashes left the urn, the wind shifted.

“Well, then, you know.” “I know what I’ve read. In my experience, that isn't necessarily the truth.” “I’ll have to agree with you there. But… it’s probably pretty close. Anyway, Ella Sinders Verona is legally dead, and now I’m Cindy Grimm.” “But you don’t know who Cindy Grimm is.” Fae read her mind. “No, I don’t. And therein lies the problem. How can I be a woman I don’t know?” “And how can you go back to being the woman you used to be, the one you were comfortable with, when she’s gone?”

"Please, Ryan, don't do this. He's your son! Please, don't take this from me!" But Ryan's mind was filled with anger and betrayal. He opened the urn and began to pour the ashes onto the ground. "No!" Sophia wailed, her cries echoing through the cemetery. She lunged forward, her hands clawing at the ashes as they scattered. The gray powder clung to her hair and skin, mixing with her tears as she wept uncontrollably. She pressed her head to the ground, her body trembling with sorrow. "My baby," she sobbed, her voice barely audible. "I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…"

Asher remained mute as the Luna's body was lowered into the ground, and one by one the pack members laid flowers on the black mound, some spilling tears, others leaving notes, and stuffed animals for the unborn cub. After the funeral, Asher returned to the mansion, and aimed to head to his room, but then he stopped at the door which led to the nursery. Asher opened the door. He entered the room coolly, his eyes cold and shut off from the world around him. He closed the door with his foot. Asher didn't realize it when his fist met the nearby wall. He was cold and unfeeling as he ripped apart the plush toys and destroyed picture frames. Asher raged, screaming, growling and yelling, while he de

“They think you’re losing it.” “I am losing it. And maybe that’s what it’ll take.” She was quiet, studying me. Then, softly: “We’re with you.” I turned toward her. She held out a small vial. Inside it, a flame flickered. White with specks of gold. Not like any fire I’d seen before. “What is it?” I asked. “Part of the original ember,” she said. “From the Temple of Ashes. From the altar where Azaria first collapsed.”

Chapter 14: Shards of the Aftermath Morning reluctantly broke, spilling pale orange light over the wreckage of the NOVA-7 complex. Smoke continued to curl into the air behind them as they huddled around a small campfire at the top of a ridge that gazed down into the valley below. Adrenaline had worn off. Only the low hum of questions—unasked, unspoken—remained. Asher sat next to Cassandra. She hadn't spoken since they'd fled. Her eyes blazed with awareness, but her voice came and went, lost and weak.

“Not literally. Encrypted within a set of files your father once protected with his life. Codenamed: Ashes.” Riccardo’s voice crackled through Camilla’s earpiece. “Ashes. That’s on the last line of the Buenos Aires data set. It wasn’t a burn protocol—it was a hidden access point.” Camilla rose to her feet, cold clarity settling into her spine. “If we find the Ashes files, we find the key to unravel Cinder.” “And Voss,” Valentina added. “But be careful. He doesn’t run. He lures.” That evening, Camilla and Riccardo stood in the library of the estate, combing through her father’s archived files. Paper documents, old hard drives, and optical discs stacked in coded layers. Hours passed.

she said, voice steady. She reached into the cloth again. “Not everyone who bled got to be buried.” The crowd listened. Frozen. “This isn’t for those who survived. This is for those who never got to return.” She stood, holding the linen wide. Then turned to Nova. Nova nodded once tight, trembling. And together, they let the wind take the ash. It rose. Spun. Glowed faint gold in the dying light. And it didn’t fall. Not yet. The ash hovered in the air like memory reluctant to settle.