Final Space Ash Graven Novels & Stories

The guild members' resolve held strong, and they emerged victorious once more. Finally, they reached the last floor. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as they entered the final room. Samuel's voice crackled over the communication devices, guiding their movements. As they stepped into the room, the sight that met their eyes was chilling. Greyson stood before them, his expression a mix of arrogance and defiance. He was flanked by his remaining henchmen, their guns aimed at the guild members. "Jota," Greyson's voice was mocking, his gaze flickering over the guild members. "You've come to face me at last, be ready to die."

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.

The kind of place men like him went when they wanted to feel invisible. I walked in at two-forty-five and spotted him in the corner booth. His gray hair was thinning, he wore a cheap suit wrinkled. The bottle of scotch in front of him was half gone. He looked up when I slid into the seat across from him. His eyes widened then narrowed. “You.” “Zane Callahan.” I leaned forward with my forearms on the table. “I’m here to settle the debt you owe Ethan. I’m willing to pay the four million so that Lila can have her life back.”

Draven’s face goes pale. I look at him through the storm of breaking silver. “This is the only version that lives.” Something pulses beneath my palm. I freeze. Not magic. Movement. Small. Real. Certain. Ashen answers. I press my hand there, and the old fear in me becomes something harder than courage. My voice comes quiet. “He’ll never carry your reflection.” Draven’s mask falls. There’s no grand rage beneath it. Only cold. His hand drops to the rubble and closes around a mirror shard. He moves fast. The shard flashes toward me, not at my throat, not at my heart.

He smirked the moment he saw me, that kind of smirk that never reached his eyes. “Well, look who crawled back,” he said, voice slick and playful. “You sure you’re still one of us, Ash? ’Cause word is, you’ve been getting soft.” I ignored him and kept walking. He followed like a shadow that wouldn’t quit. “I’m just saying,” he went on, “Griff’s losing faith. Man needs soldiers, not saints.” “I’m not here for a sermon,” I replied, grabbing a beer just to keep my hands busy. My fingers shook around the bottle. I hated that he noticed.

Ash says before his expression shifts and he starts digging where Chaksy is probably buried. "Omg Ash what are you doing!" I call out and glance towards the house to see if granny is anywhere in sight. Ash continues to dig. "Aldertree was like a super ultimate dog lover. He told his dog everything and trusted him with whatever. Maybe he still does it. Even in death." After a couple of minutes something that resembles a coffin appears and next to it there is a thick black cube with a chip next to it. " Who would ever suspect a grave? And it's dishonourable to dig out a grave so no one would randomly do it unless they have a reason to. Perfect hiding spot. Fucking bingo." He picks up everythin

Glass clattered, and his smirk vanished. “I’m not replacing anyone,” I growled. “And you won’t poison this.” Asher didn’t fight back. He just met my eyes, expression cool now. “A little late for that.” I released him with a shove and turned away, heart pounding. His footsteps retreated toward the door. “Just remember,” he said over his shoulder, “you can’t resurrect the dead. But you sure as hell can bury the living.” The door shut behind him. The silence returned, but it no longer comforted.

By no means had Elizabeth been a good mother, but she didn't deserve to be murdered by her own son. “You will pay for everything, Ash. I'll make sure you'll pay for it,” Grey said, his tone hard with promise. “Sorry to tell you, Grey, but Dylan, Lily, and you will die tonight. But don't worry; I'll bury the three of you together, and you will have your so-called happy ending in your next lifetime.” Having said those words, Ash grabbed the gun from his holster, aimed it at me, and without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.