Embry Call Novels & Stories

On a crisp November morning, the inaugural assembly of the new Ember Circle convened in the renovated great hall of Montrose and Vale Estates its walls hung with Isabelle’s sketches from Prague and Bellford, each a testament to rediscovered history. Representatives from art, academia, and clergy gathered in a wide semicircle; at its center, a brazier held a single silver blue ember that pulsed like a heartbeat.

She glanced at the caller ID and felt a pang of concern when she saw it was Emerald’s mom, Bertha Harts. “Hello? Ma’am, is everything okay?” Emily asked after answering. “Oh Emily, thank goodness!” Bertha’s voice was tight with panic. “I’ve been trying to reach Emerald all night with no luck at all.” Emily furrowed her brow. She could not help frowning at Bertha’s words.

She smirked conspiratorially at Isla who squealed and launched her self at Ember whisper yelling in her ear. “Who? Tell me who? Is it that dreamy warrior Callum? Carlson? Carl? What’s his name again?” “Caleb? Maybe. I mean its been a year since I’ve seen him. He might have found his mate already.” Embers heart fluttered a little, Caleb had flirted with her a fair bit last summer. She had had more than one dream or two with him turning out to be her mate.

I ran towards it and stared as it glow like an ember. "This must be the ember of love!" I exclaimed. "You're right Princess," an unfamiliar voice suddenly spoke. "Who are you?" "I am the ember of love waiting to be flourished by you. When you learn how to turn that ember into a blazing flame of affection then you could easily defeat Velion," she told me. "But how?" I really have no idea on how to use that ember of love. "It's all up to you. Remember to listen to your heart and everything will go according to how destiny planned it to be." Those were the last words I heard from her before I opened my eyes to see the worried faces of my friends and aunt Athena.

Eric reached me in a second looking ready to take on anything, his eyes scanned the room for any assailants. He looked down and a grimace crossed his face at the sight of me, covered in blood and kneeling down with my hands over Sean’s bloodied neck. My body was running on pure adrenaline. “Get an ambulance! Hurry!” I say and he ends the call with whoever was on the other line.

Westley raised an eyebrow in question. "Then how do you-" "Long ass story, Doc." Emily cut her off. "But it doesn't matter anyway, ghe little fucker's gonna have Auntie Em." She smiled brightly. Dr. Westley laughed lightly, before informing me thatwe were done for the day. She pulled off a piece of paper from the little, square stack of sticky notes at the edge of her table, and scribbled onto it, before handing it over to me. "Three numbers. The first is your assigned nurse, she will make house calls every now and then, meaning you can call her if you're home, or anywhere else and something feels off with baby. The second number is mine, and the third is our in-house counsellor's."

**** Amid the bustling activity at the flower shop, the anticipation of closing up and returning home early settled in for Gabriella. The energetic atmosphere was a change from the drama that had occupied her recent weeks. As the day transitioned into evening, the thought of her pregnancy becoming a reality began to sink in. Tidying up her array of flowers and preparing to lock the doors, her routine was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. With a sense of curiosity, she retrieved her phone and noticed Emily's name on the Caller ID. A smile graced her lips as she answered the call.

Angela. .. I throw a "don't tell him" look at Vanessa and she nodded, going ahead to openly demonstrate zipping her mouth shut. I grunt. "I definitely heard someone saying they want a baby.."he drawled, moving inside. Nervousness cuts through my spines as I chuckle, giving Vanessa a pleading look. "I...was on a call?" Her head tug to the side before she looks at me. I squint my eyes, shaking my head.

Alina stepped forward because everyone expected her to, because her feet remembered what her mind wanted to refuse. Inside, the Crown chamber was circular and close, its walls curving inward like the inside of a shell. Smoke-darkened stone rose to a vaulted ceiling. The floor bore the marks of centuries, worn thin at the center where people had stood and waited and hoped. At the heart of the room, on a low plinth of blackwood, rested the Ember Crown. It looked smaller than Alina remembered. Or perhaps memory had made it heavier. Up close, the metal was darker than iron, threaded with faint ember-red veins that did not glow so much as wait. At its center sat a single stone, dull and opaque, t