From Blood And Ash 4 Novels & Stories

For no matter what the enemy could do, as long as they were not deserving, the elixir would never exist in front of them. HER BLOOD was pumping deep inside her as she pushed a slightly ajar door. The door swung and crashed against the wall, earning her a few terrified looks. "M—Miss Lily!" A group of statled nuns rushed to her, although were stopped by the eldest of them. "Miss Lily Alston," she greeted, wearing an amicable smile despite the creases on her brows. "May we help you with your troubles?" Lily Alston breathed heavily and frantically looked around. Seeing none of the familiar small figure she needed to see, she quickly pushed past the nuns and entered the convent's backyard.

I demanded. Ash gave me a look like he was annoyed at my name calling, but he didn’t dare say anything. I shouldn’t have to always be the brains of every operation someone else needed to think for once! “We have a plan but it’s going to be messy. I know you’re not opposed to some blood but it’ll be a lot. They won’t go down without a hell of a fight, if you can get some more vampires here, that would be a huge help,” Ash said.

Just then, a small head peeked through the suffocating smoke. “Madam, do you need any help?” someone asked timidly. I forced my eyes open and saw a young boy who was about the same age as my son. He was covered in ash and dirt, but his eyes shone brightly through the smoke. He was so small in size, yet he managed to muster the strength to help me up. Then, together, we slowly made our way outside. The path to the outside was incredibly challenging, and I felt like giving up several times.

They watched in awe as Asha’s eyes and hair returned back to their normal black color before tears streamed down on her face as she rushed to the coughing man on the ground. Asha only felt like her entire body is surrounded by darkness and a heavy lead that is weighing it down the endless abyss. Her eyes could only see red and an urge to see blood surged in her heart the moment she digested Lyor’s words. The first class warriors of the Blood Wolves clan and her eldest brother’s friends are like a group of elder brothers to her who have grown up in their care. Hearing their condition of being almost turned into death soldiers caused her brain to malfunction, and she could only hear a ringing

every rustle of leaves, every shifting wolf in the distance amplified, as if the moon were inside her skull, beating like a second heart. The sky above cracked with red clouds that shouldn’t have been there. No storm. No thunder. Just... pressure. A rising tension. The prelude to something old and holy and catastrophic. The Blood Phase had begun. And with it came the waking dreams. It started with a flicker. A twitch behind her eyes. Then the world broke. She saw Asher. His throat torn open, blood bubbling between his teeth. Reaching for her. Then Victor. On his knees, screaming in a language older than English. Fire in his mouth. His chest hollowed out like a sacrificial offering.

The ground trembled beneath Asha as she struggled to rise to her feet. Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps, her body drained from the immense effort of unleashing the Soulbone’s power. The air around her still hummed with the residual magic, a tremor of energy that seemed to pulse from the very heart of the Spire. She could feel it deep inside her, the echoes of the Ancestral Spirits and the remnants of the Blood Pact, still struggling to cling to existence.

“My enemy lurks within this Park, the last blood of Kayla. Only if you bring her to me, I may spare you.” “It was said that Kayla's last blood held a great piece of virtue. She requested for her lover's ashes to be given to her as the reward for handing out her lover, Emmett, to the Alpha of their time to slay. They had it all these while, and maybe, along the way, they sold it to the hands of strangers, like the humans.” “Please, master, the people who had your urn know Kayla's last blood. You should go get your answers now for we know nothing.”

The crack blazed brighter than ever. For a long moment no one moved. The clearing was silent except for the hiss of the crack in the marker and the distant retreat of paws through underbrush. Mist drifted back in to fill the space where the pack had stood. Ava pulled herself upright against the stone. Her hands trembled. The silver glow had withdrawn into the token but left a faint shimmer under her skin, like moonlight trapped in her veins. She could still hear the echo of the whisper, softer now but insistent: Daughter of ash…

“Like that.” Sirens screamed closer, red and blue slashing through the broken windows, lighting the walls in streaks. Sienna’s gut clenched—cops could mean help or a bigger mess. She dug the vial out, holding it up, the red inside catching the glow. Yours, Sienna. Always was. Her blood, his blood—Dorian’s twisted game, and she was neck-deep.

The bloodlines were never meant to stand apart. Flame buried beneath ash. Fang bound by duty. Roses bleeding in shadow. Stars lost to the dark. Generations fractured by fear and pride. But blood remembers. When the Four stand whole, the ground trembles. What was broken rises. Power forgotten reclaims its name. Unity or ruin. Choice or fate. Balance does not wait. If I could not stop the war, then it must be you who ends it. Rise from the ashes of six. Find the heirs of my dearest friends, the ones who stood beside me when the world began to break. With them, fulfill the prophecy. Restore what was lost.