From Blood And Ash Book 2 Novels & Stories

He then went ahead and rolled him over so that he could see his face, and the driver gasped after he realized who he was. "Is this not Alpha Cameron's son-in-law?" He thought the alcohol in his system draining away in the same instant. After he finally came back to his senses, he flew from that place and didn't even dare to look back. Ash was left laying there all alone, and because he was in a place where no one could easily see him, everyone kept passing, letting him fight for his life since he had already lost so much blood. From where Ash had met with an accident, there was a forest just nearby that was always haunted by wolves. A black Lycan two times bigger than a normal wolf with glow

"Sign it. You were never meant to wear my ring, Elena." As the daughter of a fallen Mafia boss, Elena knew her arranged marriage to Alexander—billionaire CEO and supreme Lycan Alpha King—was purely political. For three agonizing years, she endured his freezing neglect and the cruel schemes of his pack, holding onto the secret that she was carrying his true heir. Then came the night of the fire. Trapped in a burning warehouse by a rival syndicate, Elena begged her husband to save her. Instead, Alexander chose to rescue his childhood sweetheart, leaving Elena to burn. He thought she perished in the flames. His wolf howled in a bond-snapped agony he deserved. But Elena didn't die. Five yea

Around midnight she reached the section describing Meher's gradual decline. The whispers. The forest. The growing suspicion. The fear. A knot formed in her stomach. She kept reading. Then came the murder. The rain. The clearing. Meher's final words. I have only loved you. Aisha closed the notebook abruptly. The room felt too warm. For several moments she simply sat there staring at nothing. The tragedy struck harder than she expected. Not because it was real. Because it wasn't. Somehow that made it worse. A fictional murder should not have felt devastating.

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Flame Within Lyra awoke gasping. But there was no breath. No air. Just searing heat and the sound of her own heartbeat echoing like a war drum in her ears. She was no longer in the forest. No longer in the Forgotten Hollow. Instead, she stood in the center of a vast chamber of flame and obsidian, where the walls pulsed like living veins, and the floor glowed with ancient runes too old to be named. Her skin shimmered with a faint golden light, her eyes glowing faintly in the crimson haze.

Her body began to glow, and color returned to her pale cheeks. "Continue!" the crone shouted. "Don't stop!" I pushed the dagger deeper. More light streamed from my body. I felt myself emptying out, becoming a hollow shell. But it was worth it. If she could live, it was all worth it. The silver blade sank completely into my heart. The altar exploded with a blinding light, illuminating the entire hall like daylight. And then, everything went dark.

Book Two: Shadowstorm Rising Chapter Six: The Relic The rain came with dawn, cold and thin, washing blood and ash into dark rivulets that snaked through the mud outside Shadowstorm’s walls. Raven walked the battlefield with Ragnar, Nightfire low under her skin, Shadow pacing quietly inside, watchful. The air smelled of wet earth and something older, something wrong. They stepped carefully around charred remains of the creatures, black ash dissolving under the drizzle, revealing torn earth beneath.

“But that doesn’t make the pull to Ash disappear.” He swallowed hard. “Then let’s find him.” We found him at the edge of the old ruins. Not alive. Not dead. Suspended. Ash lay crumpled at the base of a shattered pillar, silver light flickering weakly around his body like dying embers. His chest rose shallowly. His lips were blue. His hair was streaked with frost. Moon frost. My blood ran cold. “Tyla,” I said sharply, “don’t—” She was already moving.

“Wolves who lose themselves. Who let the shift hollow them out instead of strengthen them. Most die. Some don’t.” “And those are…” She gestured weakly to the destruction. “Abominations,” he said. “Drawn to power. To bloodlines like yours.” Her chest tightened. That familiar pull stirred under her ribs again, faint but present. Like something listening. “So it wasn’t after you,” she said softly. Ash met her eyes. “No.” It had been after her. The silence that followed felt heavier than the fight itself. Ash crouched in front of her, his movements slower now, more careful. There was blood on his knuckles — dark, already drying.

“It should have.” He hesitated. “Because of last night?” She shook her head. “No. Because of what came after.” He swallowed. “What did come after?” Althea lifted her gaze to him. And Luca Ashford—careless heir, charming threat, untouchable prince—felt something inside him surrender. Her eyes weren’t just scared. They were grieving. “I woke something, Luca,” she said quietly. “Something old.” He didn’t move. “And when it looked at me,” she whispered, “I looked back.”

Kevin pulled out of her slowly and looked down at his shaft which was now coated with blood. Her blood! A look of disbelief crossed his face as he saw the red liquid drenching down his length and onto the pristine white sheets. His heart skipped a beat. He was her first!