From Ashes To Power Novels & Stories

I was staring at my very own redemption in a vial. The dose would not only cure Asher, but will strip him of his powers, leaving him no more than a commoner. The true definition of power wasn’t in strength, no, it was in one’s ability to create a problem, and then create a solution in high demand. This was exactly what I'd successfully achieved.

But the money she'd been given had bought her more than an apartment; it had bought her the means to actually fight back, and tonight, for the first time since she'd landed back on this side of the ocean, that felt like it might be enough. The ashes of everything she'd lost in Italy had mostly settled. But survival, and the stubborn loyalty of an old friend who refused to let her go quietly, burned brighter tonight than any threat Marcus could send after her.

I placed my trembling hand on his chest but felt nothing. "No…" I choked out. "You can't be dead... You cannot leave me!" I shouted as tears scorched my cheeks. I placed both hands on his wound, desperately hoping for a miracle. I needed a miracle… God damn it, I deserved one! I closed my eyes and instantly felt a new fire rising inside me. I could sense it with every fiber of my being. I could taste it with every nerve within me. It resonated through me. It demanded to be used. I knew what it was… It was the true power of Nephilim raging inside me. I called it out, and now it filled my hands as I touched Ash. It was there, right beneath my skin, ready to act like it was supposed to.

“You’re slaughtering your own people for nothing. Power is not what you think it is, what you are searching for would ruin you and everything you hold dear.” “For nothing?” He let out a dark laugh. “You think I don’t have a purpose? Every life I take brings me closer to power unimaginable. And all I need is her, your precious mate. If you give me willow, she would make up for all the souls I could have taken. Just one soul for a thousand others, how hard can it be son? Or should I even call you that right now, Asher?” “Willow is ours,” I said, my voice firm despite the weakness in my body. “We’ll never sacrifice her for you.”

I am power incarnate. I can feel it, this power, like a current running through my bones. I push it out toward Alek and Ryan, my mates, drawing it back from Asher even though it drains me to do it. It’s like ripping threads out of my own soul, but it feels right—this power belongs with them, not with her.

He held his back with one hand and tried to steady himself with the other. But the pain was too much. Ashier fell on his knees and groaned loudly, his face contorted in agony. Alisha stopped talking and rushed to his side. "Your highness, what's wrong?" she asked, worry etched on her face. Ashier couldn't answer. He was too busy trying to manage the pain. He knew what was happening. His wound was hurting again because he had used his power to save Blair. Whenever he used his powers, the dark energy seeped out of his energy, causing him to weaken and feel intense pain.

Later, when the fire burned lower and conversations dulled, Asher found me near the edge of the clearing. “You didn’t undermine me,” he said quietly. “I won’t,” I replied. “I’m not interested in your crown.” He studied my face, searching for something. “You say that now.” “I say it because it’s true.” A beat passed. “Power doesn’t stay neutral forever,” he said. “It attracts conflict. Expectation. Loyalty.” “And resentment,” I added. “Yes.” I crossed my arms. “Then tell me what you want from me.” That stopped him.

“Perhaps the ashes have borne fruit after all.” But Justina knew the battle was far from over. The ashes held more than remnants of destruction they held the possibility of rebirth, reclamation,and power. And she intended to rise from them, stronger than ever, unbroken, untouchable. Carson’s hand found hers once more, a tether against the chaos. “We survive this,” he said firmly. “We rise from the ashes together.” Justina’s gaze met his, fierce and unwavering. “Together,” she confirmed, every ounce of fear transmuted into determination.

Idaliah flashed her a tearful smile, closed her eyes and bowed her head with her right hand on her chest. Speechless, Adeline stood up, but she only stood there, her hands shaking and chest burning as the chains shook with kneels after kneels that followed when Idaliah herself kneeled. She absentmindedly looked around and found fifty hearts offered and fifty heads lowered for her. "Alpha."

"Two hundred years ago, a lycan of royal descent and a cat shifter were mated. The Lycans were not happy as they wanted the royal line to remain fresh. The cat shifter named Diana had a witch father. It was said that he sought power over many supernatural beings and was most delighted with the mate bond between his daughter and the Lycan, but unfortunately, war broke out between the two species, and Diana was killed. Her father was so vengeful that he swore revenge on all the Lycans and he promised to bring his daughter who, like him, was blinded by power, back to life, more dreadful and powerful. The poor Lycan, maddened by grief over the loss of his mate, committed suicide and joined her i