From Blood And Ash Spice Level Novels & Stories

Ash asked sober and broken, his eyes were swelling from holding so much anguish in him, In front of him was four bottles of alcohol yet he couldn’t drunk as much as he wanted. “Could you put Lass-B in the drinks” Gamma Brent requested the bartender, (Lass B was a portion that made wolves drunk in a matter of minutes with no side effects) Two glass were dropped in front of them, Ash immediately picked his and downed it in a go, he could feel the portion working already.

I brought it close to my nose, like I was enjoying the smell. The sweet spice hit me first. Then, under it, something else. A sharp, bitter tang, like a wet coin left in water. My stomach turned. I knew that smell. Back in Ashvale, the village healer used the same bitter powder to make rats leave the grain. A tiny pinch could make a person cough for days. A bigger pinch could close a weak chest completely. I kept my face calm. My hand did not shake. "It smells wonderful," I said. "Did you mix it yourself?"

Finn dips the dagger in the blood and goes back to the drinking vessel. He puts the blood-smeared knife down in the tub and stirred so that the blood is mixed with the herbs. I have, with great shame, to admit that the smell which rises from the mixture tempts my appetite. Whatever those plants are , they make the metallic scent even more inviting to the wolf in me. It almost crawls up and down my spine to get the claws in the drink.

Chapter Thirteen: Sister of Ash The sky had turned a deep, smoky gray, as though the heavens themselves mourned what was awakening beneath the soil. Seren stood at the edge of the crater, surrounded by the wreckage of her birthright and the screams of the cursed tree that once marked Black Hollow’s sacred heart. Her robes—dark blue with silver embroidery—fluttered with energy. She hadn’t aged past her early twenties, her presence defying time, her expression carved from stone.

“There’s one particular root—Ashrot Bark. Nasty stuff. Rare. Illegal in most regions.” I frowned. “What does it do?” He looked up, face suddenly serious. “If it’s mixed with a personal fluid—blood, urine, saliva—it can bind to a specific individual. Just a drop is enough to program your mind to hate that person.” I blinked. Hard. “What?” “It doesn’t just mess with your head, Kael. It rewires your emotional perception. It makes you feel revulsion. Disgust. Hatred. You don’t even realize it’s happening.”

Almost coaxing. I spat blood onto the floor. “Go to hell.” Asher’s expression darkened. The next strike came harder. The sound of it cracked loud enough to echo, and this time, my vision blurred at the edges. My body trembled, heart hammering in my chest. I could take it. I had to. Asher’s voice was a whisper now, just beneath the pounding in my ears. “We will find it. And when we do... your precious mate won’t be so lucky either.”

It had been suppressed and buried, yes, but never gone. "The first cocktail was a little something special I helped design long, long ago. For a day or so it makes you as human as the next man." He chuckled. "Well, maybe not the next man, since that's me, but suffice to say your dragon won't be able to surface. I had originally planned on it being used against your family five hundred years ago, believe it or not. But things got unnecessarily complicated. It was eventually used against me, so I can vouch for its effectiveness." Conrad smiled darkly. "There's nothing so frightening as being effectively turned into a human, is there?"

I was wrong. The boy had Lycan blood also. It was very faint, therefor it was hard to smell."mamá, we're going to name the big one midnight." The 6 year old girl cheered, climbing on top of Asher. He just placed his head on the ground, the two little girls jumped on him and tugged on his ears.My heart fluttered with joy at this sight.

The boy's name was Bobby Lance, and he was the one who looked like Remy the most. When I reached the bridge, the sun was starting to set, and I was stunned by the shiny scene in front of me. Suddenly, there were hundreds of golden lockets on the bridge, and I couldn't even count how many there were. The lockets came in different sizes, and they were decorated with all kinds of jewels.

Something older—deeper—threading into the bones of Moonfall Keep. Her fingers glow faintly. Dull. Ash-toned. She inhales sharply. “This wasn’t a shadow,” she says slowly, each word deliberate. “It was absence.” The word hits like a dropped blade. Cain’s voice is low. “Explain.” “Someone burned themselves out of the world,” Maereth continues. “Ash magic. Starved. Broken. The kind that doesn’t cast—it consumes. It leaves nothing behind because there’s nothing left to leave.”