From Blood And Ash 4 Novels & Stories

Sadness. I glanced down at the letter still clutched in my hand, the paper fragile and crumpled from my grip. Slowly, I allowed a sliver of lightning to dance along its edges, watching as the parchment caught fire. The flames consumed the letter quickly, reducing it to ash in seconds, and I let the remains fall to the table in a blackened heap. Ashes. Just like everything else in this cursed palace. I stormed out of the throne room, my footsteps heavy and my thoughts darker than the night itself. The halls were quiet, too quiet, and every echo of my boots against the stone reminded me of how alone I truly was about to become.

Andrew spat another mouthful of blood but said nothing as he lifted his sword again and swung down with everything he had. Julius finally lost his patience. "If you're that eager to die, I'll grant your wish." His single hand blurred through the air, creating several afterimages, and a ball of pitch-black light the size of a fist shot straight toward Andrew. From behind, Brielle screamed, "Andrew, move! That's the Bloodshadow! Once it touches you, you're dead!" Yet Andrew's eyes remained disturbingly calm in that life-and-death moment. He let Godslayer fly from his hands, sending it crashing forward again, but this time not at Julius' face.

Ashley said, “I have always heard from people that a true blood is special, legendary and powerful and blah blah and I have also heard that a true blood is not born unless there is a reason. The first true bloods also appeared to fight a war. And not just that there are two true bloods you and me. Weird.” Dawn pressed her lips together, “There are only four existing species, Vampires, humans, witches and vampires. You think that there are two more true bloods?” Ashley shrugged, “who knows maybe.” She sighed as she leaned back on her seat. In her last life, she was sure that the one who had destroyed her pack was not the council. Yes, the council supported the enemy and backed off and didn’t

Because she doesn’t run to safety— She runs into places where she can disappear. Where she can vanish. Where she thinks no one will find her. Except— I already have. The scent hits me first. Blood. Not fresh. Layered. Older. My jaw tightens. She was already injured. Already fighting. Before I ever reached her. Before the warehouse. Before she stayed. Before she touched me. And she still— Stayed. The realization burns deeper than the silver. I turn the corner— And see her.

Even in the dim light, I can see the torn fabric across his abdomen, soaked dark with blood. My heart drops. “Multiple wounds...” Charles says tightly. Only then do I notice the sticky warmth on my hands. I slowly look down. Blood. David’s blood. My fingers are coated in it. His trembling hand suddenly catches my sleeve. I lean closer. “Shaw...” he breathes. “Look into Shaw.” “What about Shaw?” I ask sharply. But David’s grip slips from my sleeve, and his eyes fall shut.

Ashen shook her head, She coughed ink, Then pressed a piece of her page the one she’d hidden into Liora’s hand. One word on it: Bind. Liora frowned. “Bind to what?” Ashen’s hand rose, trembling, and touched Liora’s forehead, For a second, Liora saw it all: Every fragment of Ashen’s lost story, Every possible ending she might have had, The rage, the hope, the unspoken names. Ashen closed her eyes, And whispered, “Bind me to your blood.” Liora gasped. “No—Ashen—”

For me. The magic inside me shattered through the restraints like wildfire. The air ignited with violet light, my eyes burning red, my voice unrecognizable. I stood. And I ran. The chamber doors flung open as I burst through, stumbling down stone corridors that pulsed with old spells and blood-soaked secrets. I followed the sounds. The growls. The clash of claws and power. And then I saw them. Ash was on his knees, clutching his side, blood pouring from his ribs.

Cold, black blood sprayed out, but I was already finished firing my gun which is in my left hand, to another monster before the first corpse fell. The field was thick with beasts, the air alive and hellish with their screams. A shadow darted behind me. I turned just in time to parry the slash of a cleaver. I barely registered my opponent-male, shirtless, whiter than snow and drenched in blood-before counterattacking. I nocked my gun on his head then pull the trigger. The monster fell to the ground with a wet smack. "In coming!" I yelled, but even though I screamed at the top of my lungs, I knew the others hadn't heard.

The guild members exchanged quick looks, a silent acknowledgment of their success. "Move to the next floor," Samuel's voice directed through the communication devices. Jota's group regrouped, their expressions a mix of determination and exhaustion. The building's interior remained a battleground, each floor a challenge to overcome. On each floor, the tension was electric as the guild members moved through the building, their guns at the ready. The corridors were dimly lit, the air heavy with the anticipation of the confrontation. As they entered the rooms on the fourth floor, gunshots erupted. The guild members engaged in a fierce exchange of fire with Greyson's henchmen.

"To rising from the ashes." Natalie clinked her glass gently. "To whatever comes next." And beneath the velvet sky, with the city once again at her feet, Natalie Evans finally felt the fire inside her burn not with rage, but with purpose.