Embers And Ashes Novels & Stories

She cremated Isaac and Mandy, scattering their ashes in a pauper's field. "You two deserve each other. May you never hurt anyone again." Ashley, thank you for everything. We'll be friends again in our next life. A breeze blew, and my soul vanished.

I would miss him, but I was more than glad to know him. I felt bad that I couldn't save him, but I could save Arizer and then I felt bad that I was glad it was Arizer that I could save. He was my 'mate', my other half of my soul. I would be sad and miss Asher but can live without him. I wouldn't want to live without Arizer. After everything we did to get to this point it seemed to have taken a long time for it to all be over so swiftly. Just not quick enough with the amount of elves, wolves and witches that we lost, but it could have also been so much worse. When the night came we made a massive Pyre and placed all the bodies of our lost with a special higher pyre in the middle where Asher w

I grab a salt shaker, pretending I was doing literally anything else, just as Mum and Aunt Primrose walk in. They look between us. Suspicious. But they say nothing. “Emerald is driving us to see the other members who lost their loved ones yesterday,” Aunt Primrose says. “Be good while we’re gone.” Her eyes linger on us. I rise immediately, already heading for the door. “And Eme… Asher.” Her voice stops me. I turn, catching the warning in her tone. Asher and I share a look before facing her. “I know you’re both young and hot kids,” she says gently. “Hot-blooded werewolves, in fact.”

Percival The setup was simple but meaningful—a large canopy stretched across the burial grounds, and wolves came in waves, dressed in black, walking beside mates or close friends. Some held hands. Some wiped tears. Some just stared ahead, hollow-eyed but standing tall. At least no alphas were lost. No seconds or betas. But the loss still burned. Ashes would be scattered today. And memories would be carried. Edeline leaned in and whispered, “There’s my brother.”

"To every woman who was told she was too emotional, too soft, too ambitious. To every person who lost everything and had to start again. This is your reminder that we rise. And we rise stronger." That night, Natalie sat on the balcony of her penthouse, watching the stars return to a sky once clouded by doubt. Lila joined her with two glasses of wine. "You know," Lila said, handing her a glass, "I always believed you’d come back. But I never expected this." "Neither did I," Natalie admitted. "But maybe sometimes we have to be burned down to remember what we’re made of." Lila raised her glass. "To rising from the ashes."

Sadness. I glanced down at the letter still clutched in my hand, the paper fragile and crumpled from my grip. Slowly, I allowed a sliver of lightning to dance along its edges, watching as the parchment caught fire. The flames consumed the letter quickly, reducing it to ash in seconds, and I let the remains fall to the table in a blackened heap. Ashes. Just like everything else in this cursed palace. I stormed out of the throne room, my footsteps heavy and my thoughts darker than the night itself. The halls were quiet, too quiet, and every echo of my boots against the stone reminded me of how alone I truly was about to become.

Maya immediately noticed the hesitation. “What happened?” “Nothing at the estate,” Vance said. “At least, nothing we can prove.” Julian’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.” Vance handed him a tablet. “Three council members have withdrawn their support. Two southern packs are refusing to recognize the Syndicate evidence. And someone has been attempting to access the old Bloodmoon communication network.” Maya’s stomach tightened. “Someone from the Syndicate?” “We don’t know.” Julian looked at the screen. “Then find out.”

We must plan well so that Samhain does not still leave us the same,“ the other wheezed in a hushed tone" "Those lycans will have us to answer to, soon...really soon” And with a cracking sound, they both disappeared into thin air.

But James had died long ago, more than a hundred and fifty years now. "Mikhail, stop brooding." James's laughter echoed through the hall, a flash of memory that made him smile. If there was anyone aside from his brothers who had understood him, it had been James. The human had been a friend to him when he'd needed it most, a brother when he had become brotherless. Their bond had run deep in a time when Mikhail had felt most alone because of his exile. When James had died, he'd left Mikhail the house, as well as all of the ghosts and memories that came with it.

They must’ve been friends of her father. Mary hung back from the coffin, as did Bart, waiting for everyone else to go through. Mr. Sinders was teary-eyed. Teresa and her daughters were sobbing, but it was apparent to Mary it was totally fake. It made her sick to see them trying to get attention over the death of a girl they’d treated so poorly for so long.