From Blood And Ash Book Set Novels & Stories

And yet, somehow, I was given the hardest task of all. Picking up the tray, which was heavier than all the rest since it was full of pitcher of heavy blood, I made for the door. The Pack clinic always kept a well-stocked blood bank, both in case a wolf needed a transfusion and for whenever important Vampires come calling. Since Werewolves heal so quickly, it doesn't take much to restock it with donations. I helped Rosie a few times doing blood drives during the long years of the war.

Every step carried them closer to blood. The Ashen Kin’s lair rose out of the forest like a wound, a circle of crumbling stone towers stitched together by black ivy and pulsating wards of red light. The chanting grew louder, echoing across the trees, vibrating through bone and blood. The full moon hung swollen overhead, bathing everything in silver fire.

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.

And somewhere, in the shadows of a city that never kneels, a new name is whispering its way into history. Stay ready. ~~~~~ BOOK OF BLOOD — FINAL ENTRY/GOODBYE. They bled for this page. Every name you read. Every vow whispered in backrooms. Every vendetta forged in alleys, at weddings, in blood-soaked corridors of memory, they all brought you here. Not just to an ending. But to a reckoning. When I began writing this story, I thought I was building an empire. But somewhere between Aria’s first scar and Lorenzo’s last breath, I realized what I was really doing: I was burying the old world. And growing something in its ashes.

She takes my hand, and the moment her skin touches mine, my head snaps back and everything fades— ⸻ We’re standing on an empty airfield, chaos erupting around us. Our people clash with humans and sharply dressed rogues. But it’s the glowing eyes watching from the forest that tell me—we’re not alone. Then suddenly, both Drake and I drop. Darts pierce our throats. Our hearts still. We don’t move again. Baylee and Caden come sprinting across the road, their screams echoing through the air. But the fight doesn’t stop—it gets worse.

I watched the life drain from his eyes, and with a final, satisfying crack, I snapped his neck. "Shadow Guard!" I roared into the forest. "Tear them apart!" The inhibitor had weakened us, but it hadn't erased our strength entirely. Rage and vengeance burned like a wildfire, fueling our return to the fight. My warriors surged forward like beasts unleashed. Gunshots rang out, but no one cared. We were wolves. We were predators. And tonight, the forest would run red with their blood. I snatched a silver dagger from the ground and lunged at the nearest mercenary.

had eaten through his flesh down to the bone in a matter of seconds. "I... I can't feel them," Ash whispered, staring at his ruined hands. He looked up at her, and the grey in his eyes was replaced by a flickering, unstable gold. "Rhea... what is happening?" "The blood," Rhea sobbed, the golden light in her skin beginning to swirl violently. "The vision was right. You're the final ingredient. The fire... it’s not letting you near me because it wants you to bleed for it first." Outside the cathedral, the legion of a thousand shadow-beasts let out a collective, rhythmic thrum. It wasn't a growl. It was a cheer.

“Get your hands off her, Ashford.” “She’s bleeding,” Luca said, still unhurried, still holding her hand like a relic. “But thank you for the theatrics.” He lifted his thumb again—her blood smeared across the pad. “I was just helping.” “If you touch her again,” Noah hissed, “I will stop pretending to be civilized.” Luca shrugged. “You weren’t convincing anyone.” Althea couldn’t breathe, not with Luca’s heat on one side. Not with Noah’s grip anchoring her on the other. Not with the entire room watching her unravel.

However, the fear still made my blood run cold. Soon, a red dot appeared on my body. I ran for my life, but no matter where I went, the red dot followed me, locked onto me like I was prey. Eventually, I couldn’t run anymore, so I stopped, gasping for breath. Just then, someone covered my mouth from behind. A sharp, suffocating smell filled my nose before everything went black. When I woke up again, I was lying on a dining table. My body was arranged with slices of ceviche, like some kind of grotesque work of art. From my fingers to my toes, they were all carefully plated.

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.