Embers And Ashes Novels & Stories

Instead they had walked into a victory that felt like a wake, into a family already grieving a member these new arrivals would never get to meet. That was the cruelty of the timing, and everyone felt it. The Ashwoods reunited at last, after ten years, into the hollow that Isla’s death had carved through the heart of Ashford. Two families becoming one over the body of the person who’d done the most to make it possible. Later, when the introductions were done and the wolves had been fed and quartered, Theo found Brynn alone by the fire.

"I could see it in your eyes that you were desperate to find the real killer." "Thank you, Detective Taylor." One month later, Aidan was executed. He died in prison. I submitted my resignation to Ravenshire State Medical Center. Then I returned to Ashford Hollow, held a funeral for Aidan, and buried his ashes. After I went back to Ravenshire, I threw everything in my house that belonged to my mother into the trash. Once everything was cleared out, I sold the house. Then I left the country and began a new life. The following spring, I received an email from Detective Taylor. Attached was a letter my mother had written in prison. Her handwriting was neater than I expected.

I felt nothing, only smooth skin. A shaky breath escaped me. “I died…” The words sounded foreign out loud, but it was true. I know that I died, because how much can one imagine life slipping out of their body? You don’t hallucinate the weight of betrayal like that. But then again, I was back. “I’m back.” The realization settled slowly, like dust after chaos. As much as it didn't make sense, it was coming together and I was accepting it. The weirdest part was seeing a dead man alive and well. Ethan Adams was with me, alive, talking, smiling. He drove me home.

Rain pounded the cemetery, washing the gravel paths into muddy rivers. Evelyn Harlow hunched under her useless black umbrella, teeth chattering as the last shovelfuls of dirt landed on her mother’s casket. The preacher had finished ages ago. Eve just couldn’t make herself walk away. Not yet. Now it was just her. Nobody left.

He let his mind drift through old memories. The next day, dressed in nothing but a white dress shirt and black slacks, Cole was finally discovered by the cemetery's security staff. His face had gone dark from the cold, but there was a faint smile at the corner of his lips. Snow drifted down from the sky in thin, scattered flakes. Cole had frozen to death. He'd died at the side of the grave marked, "In loving memory of Isabel Cavendish, my beloved wife."

Soon enough, thick, billowing smoke obscured her face from view. Several bystanders ran up to help, but the intense heat pushed them back. In the end, the car was consumed by flames in front of everyone, leaving behind only a blackened shell. Elise was gone, and the ashes were all that remained of her. When word reached Logan’s ears, he sat in a dimly lit room in long silence. Eventually, he let out a bitter, self-mocking chuckle, but his eyes didn’t hold joy. No matter what became of Elise, Coral wasn’t coming back.

It moved farther and farther from the cemetery on the hillside, and farther away from all the love and hatred buried beneath Sicily's soil. Daisy leaned against Caleb's shoulder and looked out the window. The hillsides were covered in blooming irises. The warm breeze never felt better. Her new life had only just begun.

The words settled heavily in the space between them, not because they were dramatic, but because they were ordinary in the way they expressed something profoundly irreversible. Aisha studied him for a moment longer before speaking again. “And the marigolds?” she asked. At that, something subtle changed in his expression, not emotional disruption, but recognition. “She used to bring them when the wards were too quiet,” he said, as though recalling something that had always been part of his internal landscape. “She said they made the air feel less empty.” Aisha felt her attention sharpen slightly, because the detail matched too precisely with fragments she had seen in archived notes, and yet h

The crack blazed brighter than ever. For a long moment no one moved. The clearing was silent except for the hiss of the crack in the marker and the distant retreat of paws through underbrush. Mist drifted back in to fill the space where the pack had stood. Ava pulled herself upright against the stone. Her hands trembled. The silver glow had withdrawn into the token but left a faint shimmer under her skin, like moonlight trapped in her veins. She could still hear the echo of the whisper, softer now but insistent: Daughter of ash…

I received a letter written in blood. "Soul-bound, 'til death do us part. I kept my promise. —Kaelen" A few drops of dried, brown blood stained the paper. Marcus stood beside me. "Should I take care of this?" he asked gently. I shook my head and placed the letter in a drawer. I heard that on the night of the full moon, he severed his connection to the Moon Goddess, letting his wolf spirit dissipate into the night sky. It is the most sacred, and most painful, way for a werewolf to die.