From Sand And Ash の小説・ストーリー

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.

I couldn't take it anymore, and I slapped Rosa on the face. Since I had to do a lot of work by myself in the mountains, I had gotten a lot stronger. So, her face was swollen in no time. When she saw Yoel from the corner of her eyes, she took the opportunity to fall to the ground. Her white dress was tainted by the mud immediately. Yoel had just returned from collecting water from the river. When he saw what happened, he anxiously threw the bucket to the side.

In the briefcase were wads of cash. “I believe this is good for a start.” he said. “Also, I'll help you get rid of that scar on your face. So what do you say? Do we have a deal or not?”

Ash’s POV The roar of the clubhouse hit me before I even turned off my engine. Laughter, shouts and the sound of bottles clinking rent the air and for a moment, I wonder how they could easily fall back into their normal lives less than twelve hours after an attack. It was chaos the way I remembered it, but somehow louder and more… non challant. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat. A few brothers cheered when they saw me, others nodded, their eyes sharp, reading me like they weren’t sure what version of Ash had come back.

Like something that doesn’t want to forget being open. “ELORA!” Ruby yells. “I’ve got it!” I choke. The creature thrashes, its body unraveling as the breach narrows. YOU CANNOT CLOSE WHAT YOU ARE, it screeches. “Watch me,” I snarl. The silver surges—not outward this time, but in. Wrapping the tear, stitching it together with something that feels like choice made solid. The creature screams one last time,and collapses into ash. The tear snaps shut. Silence crashes down.

I said, "I don't know what would make you think that Asher is the father of my baby?" "He is your mate, why can he not be the father?" I frowned, "So I say the sand of this earth is made from diamonds that fell from the sky and so it was?" Fiona frowned, she looked confused, probably at the direction the conversation was suddenly turning to. "What are you saying?"

That's how most of the stories end. But since I left the Wildlands, there has been only this endless trudging, slogging, tramping, clumping. And sand. So much sand. It's like a fine mist that you don't even notice is inside your ears, your nose, crusting your eyelashes, coating your teeth and your tongue, until you try to take a sip of water and swallow a mouthful of sand. Or wipe your face and fine grains of sand get in your eyes and sting and don't come out until you've wasted water rinsing them out.

Only to see horror in front of me. I was back in front of the house, but our house looked torn and burned down, as if it has been deserted for decades. Where the green lawn used to be was no more, and instead, it was just dry land and ashes. Where the majestic fountain with perfectly sculpted angels stood no more, and in its place were 14 gravestones, 13 of them containing the names of my siblings. I saw the 14th one right in front of me, with a big gravestone that has my name. The grave was empty, but somehow, I felt like it was waiting for my dead body.