Dying Embers Mga Nobela at Kwento

Alpha Cyrus drew his sword from his sheath. My heart was beating, I couldn't die like this. Not now, not here, I had a whole life in front of me. I crawled backward slowly and the guard held me steady. "I find you, Hope Embers, guilty of treason and I hereby sentence you to death by beheading under the full moon in two days time." My heart fell to the pit of my stomach.

I just nodded, not adding anything else. We had just sparked up a fire to chase away the chill in our place when, out of nowhere, the power cut out. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the glow of our stubborn little stove. Yvonne went off with the landlord to hunt down some candles. Wade was right on her heels, moving through the flickering shadows. I caught a glimpse of him trying to hug Yvonne, but she pushed him off in a flash. "Thomas isn't feeling great. You stay and take care of him," she said, her voice carrying just enough for me to catch it.

"Gina told me. She's told me of most of the mercenary groups. Of Greenbush, and Hedgeshadow. Of Pondgrass, and Merriway. All powerful, deceptive, and fierce in battle. Yet, none as powerful as the Night Witch." Talks like this made Karl hard, but thanks to the heat of Lexi's cherry, it provided just enough heat to keep him from aching out in pain, and thanks to her tender ministration, and the rhythmic movement of her body against him. Slow and steady. "I like this beautiful feel of you," Karl said. "I am holding back my pleasure." "And you are driving me mad." ***

The acrid scent of the smoke still clung to Ava, a harsh reminder of the fire that took her parents. At eight, her world was a scary, gray place. A cruel twist of fate left her alone, an orphan in a world that didn't make sense anymore. A warm hand touched her shaking shoulder. Tears blurred her vision as she looked up at a strong man. He seemed so strong, unlike the weakness she felt. His kind face showed he understood. "Please don't... don't... Please don't kill me too," she whispered, her voice small and scared.

The soil remembers its blood. She lifted a hand and the world around them twisted— Fire. Screams. The mountain cracking like bone under pressure. Wolves tearing into wolves. Humans fleeing the forest. And the sky above—bleeding silver light, torn by shadow. In the center of it all, Ember saw herself. Her child. Asher. Julian. Vivianne. Even Aiden. All caught in a storm they couldn’t stop. **EMBER (shaken)** Tell me how to stop it.

I could see fire blazing above me, hear the screaming of those caught in the flames, as I continued to claw my way back to the surface. I am Ember’s only hope of survival. My mate needs me and I’m not going to let some elves bury me alive, leaving her to die. When the earth begins slowly closing beneath us, I push to the surface again, lifting my head in the air, trying to find her scent among the scent of fire, water, earth, and air, intermingled with burned flesh and blood. I hear a scream of agony a moment before we’re all blown off our feet by the strongest blast of fire I’ve ever seen or felt. I roll when I feel my fur burning, quickly extinguishing the fire on my body.

“Who are they?” Kael’s jaw tightened, his words looming heavy with gravity. “The ones who burn without purpose. The ones who forgot what fire is for.” With that, he turned away, gathering Ember’s belongings with swift, practiced hands, a sense of urgency imbued in his every movement. Ember’s pendant pulsed once—soft, warm, like a heartbeat reminding Isla of an inner light. It shimmered faintly in the half-light, and with an imperceptible shift in the atmosphere, the monitor beside the bed flickered, then went dark.

From stories told softly over dinner, from the way people pause near the oldest stones, and from the warmth that always seems to linger in the Hollow’s quietest corners. I am the granddaughter of healers. The child of firemakers. And the apprentice of Kael’s last student. They call me Ember—not because I burn, but because I carry what’s left of a long, bright light. And sometimes, late at night, when the wind shifts and the moon hangs low, I ask myself: “What did it feel like… to carry the flame when no one believed?” On the Day of Emberfall, we light the lanterns. Each of us carries one.

“I thought I’d lost you again.” “You didn’t,” she replied gently. “I just… I needed time to gather myself. I’m still waking up. But I’m here now.” I chuckled softly. “what’s your name?” “Ember. I wanted you to know it when the time was right.” “It suits you,” I murmured, thinking of how she had been nothing but a faint presence all my life—hidden beneath layers of suppression and silence. “Like a tiny ember left after everything burned. Quiet but still alive… and now, slowly flaring to life.”

I’m about to use Emerald’s eyes again when a vision overwhelms me. ** I see Alpha Everly’s eyes glow menacingly. They are now a glowing iridescent white, incredibly spooky. Light swirls around her as she brings vines up from the ground. There are creatures with red eyes surrounding her, pressed to kill. The creatures are pitch black, twisted and evil. While they fear her light, they are charged with one motivation: snuff out the light. She can’t do this alone. She needs help. I see a pair of hazel eyes before me. They close with finality. I see the same vision, but with a pair of bright blue eyes. There is a feeling of sorrow that washes over me.