City Of Ember Kindle Novels & Stories

The air shivered, not from terror, but from a recognition that was older than memory. Seren closed her eyes and heard it: not a voice, not a threat, but a promise written in the marrow of her bones. Unmake him. Or be unmade. She opened her eyes. And the world had changed. She walked into the heart of Emberhold, where the great Flameheart burned. For a long moment, she watched the fire twist and roar, the only sound in the endless silence. The city’s dreams weighed on her shoulders, dreams of peace, dreams of vengeance, dreams of a future she was now being dared to defend.

It’s an old leather-bound book, with a red leather cover and a gold emblem on the front, she turns it to read the spine, “The Parrot and the Hunter. Is this a children’s book or a weird shifter romance novel?” Morpheus laughs, and she sits down and opens it, “Ah, romance novel.” She taps it thoughtfully, “No pictures.” She smiles as Sol flushes and she curls up on the sofa to read, she flips through, “Oh, my apologies, there are pictures.” Sol groans as she takes in the etching of two people clearly fucking each other senseless. “Informative pictures.” Morpheus laughs hard,

Facing the camera, I spoke calmly, “No one loves me anymore, and I don’t have the courage to go on living. Fine. You can all just think of me as weak, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure to record everything. Even if I die, I won’t let them get away with it.” In the video, I crouched by the shore of Exile Island, holding a sharpened piece of bamboo. Again and again, I struck it against a rock. My hands soon became a bloody mess, but I felt nothing. It was as if I had gone completely numb. Someone in the audience cried out, “What is Jacob doing, sharpening bamboo like that? He’s not thinking of ending it, is he?” “After everything he’s been through, it wouldn’t be surprising…”

“Are you Senior Fellow Wen?” “I am.” “Your work on emotional meridian channels is the best thing I’ve read in two years of study. The library only has an early draft. I was hoping you had the revised version.” She glanced at the railings. “Also, he put the emotional resonance theory into the actual structure of this bridge. The wind is responding to it. Did you help him design that?” Lihua looked at the bridge and then back at this kid. “Come inside,” she said. “Have you eaten?”

I jump up and, in a panic, wave my hands up and down through the air. ‘My hand! It's on fire! What do I do, Ember?’ I’m squawking and flapping about like a dazed baby bird. Ember rolls onto his back and feigns sweetness. He isn’t worried at all. I soon realise the flame isn't burning me. ‘You knew I could do this, didn't you?’ I ask him. Ember stands and nuzzles his face against my calve like a cat. I close my hand, and the flame disappears.

I wondered if she could see my fear or maybe she just didn’t care. Finally, she said, “Then follow.” They led us deeper into the city. Emberdeep was no ruin. Its streets were paved with black obsidian, worn smooth by centuries of passage. Heat radiated from the walls, not suffocating, but constant like walking inside a forge. Shadows moved behind molten glass windows. Children, elders, warriors. A hidden people, sustained by flame and secrecy. We passed beneath vast archways carved with fire-language, the old tongue. I caught pieces—warnings, prayers, fragments of ancient prophecy.

"Can you read any of it?" "Some." He turned another page, and another, and then stopped, his breath catching audibly in the quiet library. "Here. This survived." Sera looked where he pointed, and even in the dim light, even with half the page scorched black and unreadable, one line remained clear, ink dark and certain against the ruin around it. The old fire does not burn the world. It burns the lies. "What does that mean?" Sera's voice had dropped to barely more than breath. "The old fire, that's what you called mine before, isn't it? The Founder's fire?"

In that case, all bets would be off. . . . . . THE END . . . . . Ember Casey is a USA Today bestselling author who writes books about wicked billionaires, Hollywood bad boys, playboy princes, and rugged adventurers. The other stories in her bestselling Fontaines of Hollywood series include The Lies Between the Lines (Luca's story!), The Secret to Seduction, The Mystery of You, and the Thrill of Temptation.

For instance, I am always reminded that he's here, in front of me and when I fall asleep, he might end up watching me but that's a total bullshit. Emery doesn't seem bothered much in his sleep. He barely even move and would only slightly whenever he feels uncomfortable but other than that, he stays till at his spot. I don't actually understand why he won't go at the back in the bedroom provided—because obviously, he's allowed to sleep there. Then again, so am I. I open my eyes to find the private jet landing; making me look down at New York City. My lips curve up into a small smile, missing home and missing the smell of freshly cooked food. Everything seems to be playing in my mind for a few

Ember’s POV The darkness enveloped her like luxurious velvet—soft, warm, and seemingly infinite. Ember floated aimlessly in a dreamscape, teetering on the precipice of consciousness and memory, her body still, her breath whispering through the stillness. She hadn’t spoken in days. Not truly. Words felt foreign now—too small for the weight she carried. The nurses were kind, but distant. Kael was protective, but unreadable. Only Isla had stayed. Only Isla had looked at her like she was still human.