Novelas y relatos de City Of Ember

CHAPTER 158 — EMBERS OF THE FALLEN The city’s skyline burnt with a quiet, smouldering fury. Streets that had once carried laughter and life now twisted into jagged paths of blackened concrete, scarred by Bishop’s fragment-fuelled rampage. But Riven stood at the centre, crown key in hand, heart pounding, eyes scanning the horizon. He could feel every pulse of Meridian, every breath, every heartbeat vibrating through his body. The city’s consciousness was alive, but it hung on the edge of fear.

I say flatly. "Oh, but I am!" Ember actually claps her massive claws together like an excited child. "It's been so lonely on this mountain since my clan exiled me. No one to talk to except passing travelers who run away screaming. No one to appreciate my vast intelligence and wit. No one to properly admire my magnificent hoard!" She's insane. Completely, utterly insane. Not evil or demonic, just bored and lonely and absolutely out of her mind. "We don't have time for games," I try to reason with her. "The demon invasion is happening now. People are dying now. We need your help now."

If I ever found out who he was, I'd confront him directly and make sure he realized just how badly he’d messed up. I couldn't help but think in a twisted way, his rejection was, in a way, a blessing. It gave me the opportunity to have someone so sweet and delicate by my side. Ember was fragile, so soft that even the slightest prick could bring her pain. If that insensitive fool had taken her in, would he have genuinely cared for her? She deserved love, warmth, and sunshine. Without it, she would fade away, and the thought of that sent a chill through me.

About Ember. The air itself seemed alive with laughter, clinking cups, and the hum of voices weaving together like music. My nose twitched as wave after wave of aromas reached me—roasted meats, fresh bread, honeyed fruits, and spiced wine. Ember stirred within me at once, pressing against my consciousness, her excitement flooding me like sparks dancing along my skin. Meat, she purred, her hunger mixing with mine until I almost laughed aloud.

A few moments later the purple and green swirling disc appears, and she breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks Emma.” She turns to the men, “Portals can make you nauseous the first few times, so just aim away from me, or anyone else and you’ll be fine.” She steps into the disc, and in the blink of an eye she appears into the cold salty sea air of the Liverpool docks at night in November. Her team are set up in front of her and she walks towards them. Ash and Kai appear behind her and she hears them muttering. Eddie looks up at her, “Hey, Boss.”

His body was tense, coiled for attack. “You have five seconds to explain why you’re trespassing,” he growled. “I’m not trespassing,” she said smoothly. “I was invited.” I stepped beside him. “By who?” She held up a pendant, carved with the mark from my mother’s old journal—the Crescent Flame. “I’m Ember,” she said. “Elaine Greywood’s firstborn. Your sister.” I reeled. “No. My mother never mentioned—” “She couldn’t,” Ember cut in. “Because they erased me. Hid me. To protect you.”

--- Burning Empire Chapter 1 Matteo’s heart hammered like a drum as he slipped through the crowded streets, clutching the small leather pouch tight beneath his coat. The city buzzed all around him — neon signs flickering, voices shouting, music pounding from nearby bars. But Matteo barely heard it. All he could focus on was the pounding in his chest and the sharp, cold weight in his pocket. This was it. His first real score.

Lucien shouted into his comms, “Extraction get the birds ready! Now!” Ember didn’t speak. She just ran. And for once, she wasn’t running from anything. She was running toward something. Minutes later outside, in the clearing The building behind them exploded, the sky lit in orange and ash. Lucien turned to Ember. “You okay?” She didn’t answer immediately. Just watched the fire rise. Then she looked at him, voice quiet and calm. “That place made me. Now it’s gone. So whatever I become next… that’s on me.”

The ember tunnels beneath Emberhold were not built for the living. They wound beneath the city in patterns even the oldest maps failed to chart, tunnels carved by flame, reshaped by generations of unseen hands. There were no names carved above the arches, no markers or shrines, no songs sung to comfort the roots or drive away the darkness. Only echoes clung to the walls. Sometimes, if you listened with the right kind of fear, they whispered of choices made in secret, of a bloodline twisted not by ambition, but by memory and the desperate hope to protect what should never have been left behind.

Because the reality was more uglier than anything I had uttered: I didn’t know how to love her without shattering her. I had dedicated a lifetime to carving away at my soul to construct a realm that Tobias couldn’t invade, and somewhere within that empire of blood and steel, I lost touch with my humanity. Emery brought me back. Each gentle laugh, every subtle challenge, every night she nestled beside me as if unaware she was lying next to a man burdened with more secrets than scars. And now she was aware. She recognized the fractures. She stepped right through them. I stood up slowly, moving towards the floor-to-ceiling window that offered a view of the city. The lights blurred as I blinked,