From Blood And Ash 3 Novels & Stories

Good-bye" They turned to leave when I jumped on my feet and held them by the leg. I pulled and begged. I opened my mouth when I felt a sharp pain in my side. "Something is happening to me" I felt a hot flow of liquid gush out of me. It ran down my center and was now touching in between my thighs. I froze and then bent to check. "Blood!" The witches cried out. I started shouting, "Blood! I'm going to die!! Please help me" They stood still, staring at each other, "We are sorry" ******* Asher's POV:

Kael steps in front of me by instinct. I move beside him. Not behind. The crack widens by a finger. Draven laughs softly from the dark beyond. “You still think choice is stronger than blood.” My hand stays over Ashen. My scar stays quiet. For the first time, I am glad it does. “No,” I say. “I think blood has been listening to the wrong men.” The door shudders. White marks flare across the stone, one after another, handprint to paw mark to spiral.

Emmy has spent her life believing she understands where she belongs: beneath the protection of King Xander, the wolf king who raised her as his own, and within a kingdom that has always been her home. But on the eve of her twentieth birthday, everything she knows begins to unravel. When a mysterious amethyst amulet awakens a power buried deep within her, Emmy discovers that her fate is tied to something far older—and far more dangerous—than the kingdom she loves. The ancient dragon king, Ignisvath, has returned from the shadows, and his connection to Emmy is not one that can be explained away as coincidence. As whispers of war spread through the kingdoms and the Dragon King’s presence grow

At this point, her life couldn’t possibly be better. --- Back in the Blood Moon Pack, Asher sat elegantly, but his eyes were murderous as he watched video footage playing on the large television in front of him. The Beta by his side shrank into himself, wanting to appear as small as possible. He wished he could be anywhere else at this moment.

Shadows curl at his feet like snakes. To my right… Asher. Wearing the silver and storm-grey of his house, his eyes burning, wild. His hands are covered in blood. Not his own. His face is torn between pain and fury. And I… I stand in between them. I don’t know how I got here, but I know I don’t belong. My fingers shake at my sides. I try to speak, but no sound comes out. Only a choking silence. Aaron steps forward. “So it’s you,” he says, voice like a hiss of wind through steel.

I looked at Kieran—infected, smiling, the mate bond pulling like a chain into my ribs. Then I looked at my mother—bleeding and still brave enough to warn me. CUT. I understood. Not the door. Not the cage. The chains. The ones inside me. I lifted my bleeding palm and spoke to the ash at my feet, voice shaking but steady. “BIND.” Ash surged up, not toward the Hollow King, not toward Kieran— toward the threshold itself. It wrapped the bone door in a thick black ring, tightening like a belt around a throat.

The sunlight caught in the crimson liquid, and for a moment, I saw it as blood swirling in crystal. This was not just about a photo. It was about pressure. About creating cracks in their perfect façade until the whole structure came crashing down. I took a slow sip and stared out at the skyline. Somewhere across the city, Delilah was burning with humiliation, Jackson was calculating excuses, and Rosaline was scrambling to protect herself. Exactly as I wanted. They thought they had buried me. They thought they had erased me. I smiled into my glass. Let’s see how you survive the storm I have set loose.

The wind scattered the ashes, and the rain soaked them, washing them away little by little amidst the flowing water. Sheila fell out of her wheelchair and hit the ground. Ignoring the pain, she crawled toward the drain, desperately trying to gather the ashes with her hands. It was hopeless. "My baby… My baby..." She could only watch as her child's ashes slowly disappeared. There was nothing she could do. It felt as though someone had torn her heart apart. She knelt in the mud, sobbing as she reached deep into the drain again and again. Her hands quickly became caked with filth, but she kept searching.

While me, Alex, and Vincent decided to walk. At first I thought Land of Ashes was just a symbolic title because that's where the bodies of werewolves, victims of war, were burned to ashes. But Land of Ashes is really colored ... gray. No trees or grass grew in the area, nothing lived on it. Just a gray-brown expanse of barren land about the size of two football fields. In the new surroundings there are dense trees that surround. And above there the evening sky is orange as a contrast background.

Cursing under his breath, he made another, deeper cut, drawing more blood, but the result was the same. Ash sighed and looked at me. "Did Estelle say anything else?" And then I finally understood what she meant. My chest tightened, and my stomach churned. I shook my head, refusing to say those words out loud. "Nala." Ash smiled faintly, coaxing me. "What did she say?" Chills ran down my spine. I fisted my hands and drew a shaky breath. "She said that it's always blood for blood." Bitterness surfaced in Ash's features. "Somehow, I knew it would end this way," he said, stepping inside the fountain with a sword in his hand.