From Blood And Ash Series Book 2 Novels & Stories

Let everything go back to normal. Normal. The word tasted like ash. I turned the water off and stood dripping in the quiet. Steam swirled around me thick and heavy. But I didn’t want normal, all I want is her. And that scared me more than any slap Ethan could throw.

“Like that.” Sirens screamed closer, red and blue slashing through the broken windows, lighting the walls in streaks. Sienna’s gut clenched—cops could mean help or a bigger mess. She dug the vial out, holding it up, the red inside catching the glow. Yours, Sienna. Always was. Her blood, his blood—Dorian’s twisted game, and she was neck-deep.

“Let me help you, Rose.” “It wouldn't hurt, would it?” She asked with a shaky voice. “Have I ever hurt you?” I got no reply to that. “Okay…so how do you get in?” She asked instead. “Close your eyes and try to breathe evenly; you could do that, right?” “Y..yes, please Emmet hurried up. The only strength I've got is on my tongue, my body is closing up on me.” Just as she spoke, I turned into a thick cloud of ash. My eyes went into flames.

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—”

POV: Asher I’m sprinting to the Big House’s storage room, Glock in hand, Ember’s footsteps fading as she races to the safehouse to check on Rowan and Caelen. The guard’s words—*“Blood opens the way”*—burn in my mind, a taunt from the Order. The east wing’s a mess, door splintered, but as I step inside, my flashlight sweeps over crates and files, all untouched. Nothing’s missing, just like Tom said. My Skinwalker senses flare, a prickle at the back of my neck, but there’s no one here. Just that damn burner phone on the floor, screen glowing with the message.

every rustle of leaves, every shifting wolf in the distance amplified, as if the moon were inside her skull, beating like a second heart. The sky above cracked with red clouds that shouldn’t have been there. No storm. No thunder. Just... pressure. A rising tension. The prelude to something old and holy and catastrophic. The Blood Phase had begun. And with it came the waking dreams. It started with a flicker. A twitch behind her eyes. Then the world broke. She saw Asher. His throat torn open, blood bubbling between his teeth. Reaching for her. Then Victor. On his knees, screaming in a language older than English. Fire in his mouth. His chest hollowed out like a sacrificial offering.

Joshua said again, as Jamie carefully stood by the bookcase, waiting to move in once Joshua signaled that it was safe. Asher smelled the vampire before he could even see her, and yet, nothing, not even that was enough to have him take his vision from the trembling target which was Miranda. She gulped and hiccupped while looking into his globes, and this image seared itself into the Alpha's brain, and in the process bruising his heart. The Alpha growled at the sensation, and this made Miranda's vision dot with black exploding stars, for she was close to losing consciousness out of fear.

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.

This is book two in the series, we are going to see Autumn evolve to become the person she is meant to be with her bff and vampire love by her side

That unsettles everyone more than screaming ever could. The fire takes slowly, reverently, like even the flames understand who they’re touching. Bone charms blacken and split. Bundles of herbs pop softly—sage, starflower, ashroot—her smell, her wards, her life. Smoke coils skyward, thick and bitter and unbearably familiar. Home. Cain stands behind me, close but not touching. He hasn’t touched me since the night she died. Ashton isn’t here at all—too busy holding his kingdom together with rage and blood and denial.