From Blood And Ash Book 2 Novelas e Histórias

“Where, or what? Which one would you like to get now? Or will it be both? You decide.” Julianne knew what he was talking about. He was asking if she wanted to get the book now or get answers to the questions she had. And if she wanted both, she would have to visit the boy’s dormitory. “What is he talking about?” Marianne asked her. Cassian tilted his head to the side and said to Marianne, “So you are Ash’s new friend.” Julianne couldn’t think straight at the moment, especially when Maximus was looking at her like he knew something about her. And one thing she knows is that it was one of the two that gave her friend the bite marks. And yet, she had to help Marianne out.

Flavius wades through the crowd of dragons until he comes upon a SpitFire much smaller than the rest. Her scales are a brilliant lilac compared to the deep violet of the other SpitFires. She slowly approaches Flavius sniffing his outstretched hand. Flavius uncurls his fingers, reaching for her head. In one swift movement, her jaws snap down on Flavius's hand. He lets out a yelp of surprise but does not try to pull his hand away. Blood drips from the mouth of the small SpitFire. She makes no move to rip Flavius's arm off, which is a good sign.

After I'm done relaying all the events, he speaks. "I see," he sits up. "The question to your answer, Haven, is no." "W-what? What do you mean 'no?'" "Your father, Ash, is not dead. He is still alive." "B-but..how can that be?" I say in a small shocked whisper. "Lycan King Ash was ambushed and betrayed by his friends exactly as it is in your vision and.." He opens his drawer and pulls out a book, it's yellowish-gold cover colour looking a bit weared off. "In this book."

Seraphina’s POV The flames were dying. Ash curled upward in the suffocating dark of the library, thin spirals of smoke clinging to the vaulted ceiling like desperate prayers that refused to rise. The last of the glowing pages fell into cinders on the stone floor, and the light it had given us—the fragile, blessed shield—dissolved into nothing. Beyond that circle of dying fire, the monsters closed in, shadows weaving between bookshelves, claws dragging over wood and stone, eyes like fragments of the abyss.

they whispered. Baylee’s blood iced. “Blood,” she breathed. Her pup’s voice. Blood. Her legs almost gave. Heather’s free hand snapped out and grabbed Baylee’s elbow to steady her, jaw tight, eyes flaring with alarm. “Bay? Bay. Hey. Stay with me. What is it?” Baylee couldn’t look away from Ash. Her mouth felt too dry to speak. “Say that again.” Ash frowned faintly, confused, like they hadn’t quite understood their own words. “He will need blood,” they whispered. “Yours. The New Light’s. Either would open. Both would hold.” Their throat flexed. “He will take the easiest path offered.”

Every one of my senses was on alert, but I couldn't move from the spot I was in. Blood rushed to my head, and momentarily, I could hear nothing but stare at Zane in stunned silence. Zane grunted, breaking me out of my thoughts. His face twisted in pain, staring down at his chest. “Ashley,” He coughed up blood, stumbling slightly. “No, no, no…” I whispered, taking a step forward. Behind Zane stood Gamma James, his eyes were cold, and he was breathing hard. “Why…what's going on? He's your alpha and not the enemy,” I said with as much calmness as I could muster, even as I was going crazy, trying to make sense of the situation.

“And you are?” “You answer me first.” Asher demanded. “I cannot remember summoning you here, so why are you? Rest assured, I have not forgotten the hit you gave me, I shall come back to that later.” “Excuse you, you were sucking her blood!” “And you saw what it did.” He raised his now fleshed hand. “However, you stopped me. I have not fully recovered.” “Which means you still want her blood?” “Aye.” “Ha,” Asher scoffed. “Like hell I will let that happen. Listen, if you leave these woods, you would come upon human settlement, you can have as much blood as you want there.”

The sky darkens as if ash had found it too. Below, his laughter climbs—ruptured, furious, exultant. The pulse hammers through it, reminding even him: freedom is not a rule. --- POV: Ashmouth The world shakes. Chains lie in glowing shards, sinking into ash. My body is ruin—torn, bleeding, luminous. My laughter is ragged but alive. I lift my head. Shadows climb with me. Skulls orbit. Solara quakes; bells toll without hands. I grin through blood and ash.

Ashen reached inward. The warmth expanded— gold, soft, steady. Then— shadow to the left, flame to the right, gold in the center. Ashen inhaled and whispered, “Merge.” The chamber erupted with light. Shadow spun into flame. Flame wove into gold. Gold pulled them into alignment. Ashen screamed— not in pain, but in overwhelming force— and the entire library shook. I roared his name. “ASHEN!” He looked up at me— eyes blazing gold, not with possession but with identity.

Already fading. When we reached the blood tree, the rogues set her down gently. The bark was dark, almost black, streaked with veins of crimson as if the tree itself bled. It pulsed faintly when I touched it, and a shiver ran through me. “She belongs here,” Asha whispered, her voice trembling. Yes. She did. I thought I would speak easily. Mama Oya had given me so much—her wisdom, her maddening riddles, her steady faith. But when I stepped forward, the words caught in my throat.