Embers And Ashes Novels & Stories

Tears streamed down my face, dripping into my father's ashes and staining them dark. I did not wipe my face. I did not respond to Stella. I did not look at Hudson, who stood beside her with an undisguised smirk. I reached out with trembling hands, gathering the ashes little by little, trying to put them back into the urn. "I'm sorry, Dad... I'm so sorry... this is my fault..." Hudson had his arm around Stella's waist. He let out a theatrical sigh. "Damon, don't take it too hard. The man is already dead. Besides, this was your own carelessness..."

Instead, I force a smile. "Careful, Dean Withers. You almost sound afraid of a dead family." His expression darkens. "Afraid?" He scoffs. "No. I reserve fear for things that are still breathing." My smile falls as he steps closer. "The Celestial Dragons are gone. Your parents are dead. Your sister is dead. And you, Miss Thalorien, are nothing more than the last loose thread of a failed rebellion." Every word steals more air from the room. "You know nothing," I whisper.

She’d come to see the bastard in the ground for herself. Dorian Ashford’s coffin sat there, slick and shiny, all polished mahogany that hollered wealth even as it sank toward the dirt. The priest mumbled some nonsense about peace everlasting, his voice half-drowned by the storm, but Sienna didn’t hear a word. Her eyes were glued to that box, her jaw locked tight. Twenty-seven years of bile churned inside her. He’d left her mom to waste away in a rusted trailer, coughing up her last breaths, while he piled up his shipping billions—money built on the wreckage of the only person who’d ever given a damn about him.

She sighed as she tossed away a few credit cards and muttered, "What a waste… If I knew the PINs, I could've inherited his entire fortune." Francesca shivered. "Shiloh, don't you feel anything taking stuff from a dead guy? Doesn't it mess with your conscience?" Shiloh sat in the backseat of the car, happily sorting her loot. Without looking up, she replied, "Nope. It's not the first time I've done this. Piece of cake." The entire car went dead silent, and even Andrew had no words. … Late that night, out in a remote burial site on the outskirts of Blumedale, a small group of men dug feverishly into the earth, shovels slicing into dirt with heavy thunks. The area was pitch black, lit only by t

As dirt was placed over the casket, a feeling of finality washed over the family. Each clump of earth that covered the casket seemed to symbolize the closing of a chapter, the end of a life that had been cherished. Tears flowed freely, mingling with the rain that fell from the sky, as they stood together in their shared grief. Whizz's hand found Liya's, their fingers intertwining as they leaned on each other for support. The pain of loss was something they carried together, a burden shared by all those who had known and loved Samuel.

I accepted the jar, cradling it in my hands with a mixture of reverence and sorrow. The weight of the jar felt heavy in my grasp, carrying the essence of my mother's being. The ashes, once a vibrant and vibrant force, were now contained within this fragile vessel. It was a profound reminder of the fragility of life and the eternal bond between a mother and her child. As I watched the mourners disperse, their presence fading into the distance, I felt a deep sense of loneliness. The absence of Madame Beatrice's physical form was now an undeniable reality, and the weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders.

“Virellion Thasra” “Virellion Thasra” “Thalvren Ekosa!” I opened my eyes and with my finest strength, I shouted; Thalvren Ekosa! And then he starts to say them fast in a gentle voice that I couldn't catch. “Fyralis Corven - From shadow to light, I invoke you to let your soul breathe once more.” “Zerithsl Dravenal - your heart beats, your pulse flow!” “Aelthsrjon Miriak - life rekindle, breath restore, eyes shine bright.”

LILA’S POV The Chicago skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the downtown club, but the Blizzard’s charity gala felt like a cage. My heels clicked on the polished marble, each step heavier than the last, as I scanned the crowd for Zane Callahan. The air pulsed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low thrum of a live band, but my pulse drowned it all out. I didn’t want to be here. But Meredith’s ultimatum of getting Zane ‘s answers or kissing my job goodbye had forced me into this glitzy hell, and the weight of my forced engagement to Ethan Callahan crushed me further.

Emily’s Point of View For years I grieved children I thought were buried in ashes . Yesterday the truth did not whisper, it crashed into me like a storm ,my babies are alive. My babies did not perish in the fire ten years ago . The thought alone is enough to glue me to the bed long after the sun has clawed its way into the sky. Golden light streams through the tall windows of my penthouse, catching on the white silk curtains I never bothered to draw shut last night. The room feels too bright, too loud, too alive for a heart that has just relearned how to hope.

“We’ll do it together. You don’t have to prove yourself alone, Elias. We’ll clear your name, and we’ll burn out whoever’s hiding behind theirs.” The Concord Sigil flared bright across my chest, brighter than before, like it had been waiting for this vow. The crowd fell into a stunned hush at the sight, students shifting uncertainly, faculty exchanging worried glances. But not all of them. Professor Shara Baudoin, the Hawthorne healer, stepped forward, eyes steady, voice even. “The boy speaks truth. No one who fights like that bleeds betrayal.” Ashleigh Dana raised her chin, wild and defiant. “If the Interregnum has touched my House, then it is my duty to burn them out. And I will.” Her gaze