From Blood And Ash Series Book 2 Novels & Stories

I asked Kade, spinning the hot rod in my hand, ready to carve into his flesh and continue from where Vi had stopped before the engagement ceremony. “I…I swear by the goddess there’s no other way,” he sobbed like his tears would move me. The metal door creaked open and Asher crawled in covered in sweat as his body trembled. Ysara stood behind him, arm folded just watching. “Brother, I need you!” He whizzed as he tried to catch his breath. I could smell the Ashpine in his blood as it ruptured his blood vessels one after the other. A scoff left my lips.

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.

Emmy has spent her life believing she understands where she belongs: beneath the protection of King Xander, the wolf king who raised her as his own, and within a kingdom that has always been her home. But on the eve of her twentieth birthday, everything she knows begins to unravel. When a mysterious amethyst amulet awakens a power buried deep within her, Emmy discovers that her fate is tied to something far older—and far more dangerous—than the kingdom she loves. The ancient dragon king, Ignisvath, has returned from the shadows, and his connection to Emmy is not one that can be explained away as coincidence. As whispers of war spread through the kingdoms and the Dragon King’s presence grow

"Avril, have some water and calm down. I know you're holding a grudge against me now, but you shouldn't be so rash next time." I didn't accept the cup of water. However, Peggy got burned by the hot water in the cup and ended up splashing the water onto my arm. "Oh! It burns…" The hot water scalded Peggy's finger. Vernon hurriedly led her to the tap and placed her finger under the running water. As for me, I was dressed lightly. The hot water had soaked through my chiffon top, scalding my arm instantly. I went to the restroom to handle the burn on my own. Very quickly, red blisters began forming on my left wrist.

“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.

“Don’t thank us yet. The blood moon is in two nights. And when Elena Ashford arrives, the real game begins.” My hand fell to my pocket, brushing against the cool hilt of the silver dagger. Two nights. And then, I would meet my mother’s killer face to face. END OF CHAPTER 9

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.

"Damon, don't take it too hard. The man is already dead. Besides, this was your own carelessness..." By the time I had gathered everything I could and placed it back into the urn, I held it close and turned to leave. "Did I say you could go?" Stella's cold voice came from behind me. Her hand grabbed my arm. "I'm not done with those ashes. Give them to me." "Not done?" I shook her off. Two days of grief and rage exploded all at once. I clutched the urn tightly to my chest, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at her.

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.

she told me. I nodded. It’s one of the worst things in the book for a bodyguard to separate from the target. But I also learned to trust that woman. If she says what we’re doing, then that’s what we’re doing. I track the first blood trail quickly. I stayed focused, my weapon ready, it led me to a corpse. Dodson’s. His throat had been slashed deep enough for the wound to expose the bones. He never had the time to scream. I looked at him for no more than three seconds then I was gone on the next trail.