City Of Ember Pdf Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

A black car pulled up in front of the house, and he got inside. Ember looked at the books that Ivan had sent her. A bodyguard brought those books to her, and a smile appeared on her face as she gazed at her favorite subjects' books. She took little steps toward their bedroom, feeling discomfort due to the pain between her legs. Entering the bedroom, Ember placed the books on the bed and started checking them. As she flipped through the pages of one book, she discovered a note inside it. Reading the note, her emotions were a mix of surprise and a strange feeling in her stomach. It was a message from Ivan, referring to himself as her handsome, monster, and idiot husband. Although she didn't sm

And last night, she had to go home alone without any of my men keeping an eye on her. Ember was the type of girl who would call trouble for herself without even knowing. Even if she knew, she would be like, 'Trouble, why are you standing outside my house? Come inside, and we can talk like there's no tomorrow.' A smile formed on my lips. Ember really never realizes what she does. She just follows her heart. She has no family, yet she talks like she has everyone with her. I would've never believed her mom was dead if I wasn't in the graveyard with her. It must be difficult for her to cover her sadness with a smile.

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.

"Game's on, ladies. And I'm rewriting the board." The city bled neon beyond the windows, but inside, my pulse matched its throb—strategy laced with something darker, hungrier. Kenji confessed, Harlan bled, and I countered. But his eyes haunted, obsidian promises of ruin and claim. The deal struck. The hunt is true. And in that electric void, I felt it—power shifting, not surrender, but collision. Two storms, knees bent, circling for the kill.

Rebecca's POV Ember broke. Not dramatically — not the way Charlotte broke, which was loudly and with an audience. The way Ember broke was quiet and sudden and worse for both of those things. One moment she was standing in the middle of the corridor being pulled in multiple directions by people asking questions she could not answer, and the next she was not there anymore. She moved fast.

I found it highly interesting, almost amusing, that Ember’s city best friend was sharing the exact same name as the broken factory worker I had left behind in the dirt. Before I could even formulate a response or change into a fresh shirt, Ember was already moving. She grabbed my wrist with a fierce, unyielding grip, her golden eyes flashing with pure excitement as she began pulling me down the long, carpeted hallway of the residential wing, taking me directly toward Amaris’s room. When we finally got to Amaris’s door, Ember didn't hesitate. She knocked sharply against the heavy mahogany wood, calling out into the quiet space. “Ama! Open up, I have someone you need to meet right now!”

It was a video, grainy, like it had been recorded in haste. Ember stared into the lens. Her face was bruised, but her eyes burned bright. “My name is Ember. I was created by Ash Phoenix as his final weapon. But I am not him. I don’t want war. I don’t want destruction. I want truth. I want family.” She paused. “Alma Sterling if you’re watching this, I need your help.” Ezra exchanged a look with Alma. “This could be bait.” Roman agreed. “Or a trap.”

Dalilah's camera clicked before her feet had finished materializing, the flash catching the crystal spires in a burst of reflected light that made them look like they were already photographing themselves. "This is not the Wastelands," she said, and her voice carried the weight of someone who had memorized the Council's descriptions and was now watching them crumble. "The Council called these lands cursed. Barren. Uninhabitable." "The Council called them what they needed the world to believe," I replied. "They gave me garbage and expected me to drown in it. I chose to build a city from the refuse." Emberlyn's mouth opened, closed, opened again, her worries rendered meaningless by a city that

An emissary who digs every ground to know the information that is needed for the transaction. I don’t torture. I don’t use violence. I just use my brain and dig a hole into the lives of every person that I dwell with. I consume. It’s either I consume information or life. Nothing is in between. “You’re new here?” Sultry seductive voice. A high-pitched voice of a woman fills my ears as I stare at the market below me. I am at one branch of this tree, looking down like a king to some shitty wolves as they made the deal to some strangers in their life.

Hope's POV “Emberfang?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. A chill ran down my spine, seizing my entire body in an icy grip. No. This had to be a joke. Was Lucian toying with me? My breath came in short, shaky bursts as I slowly unwrapped my arms from Orion, dread clawing at my chest. My lips trembled, fear settling deep in my bones at the thought of returning to that hellhole—the place that had broken me piece by piece, the dungeon where I had wasted away for years. I would rather die than go back.