How To Use Wandering Noble Ashes Novels & Stories

Cold, pine-sweet air poured in, tugging the curtains like spirits with anxious hands. I dropped to my knees beside the door, yanking open the outside pocket of my bag. Inside was a tiny glass vial marked with silver runes. I popped the cork with my teeth and poured the fine, white salt in a half-circle, starting from the right side of the frame, arcing across the threshold, and ending on the left. My hand was steady, but my pulse was wild. Next came the spirit ash—collected from sacred oak burned under a blood moon. The fine black dust smelled faintly of clove and lightning. I sprinkled it carefully over the salt line, chanting under my breath in the old tongue.

“It’s moonwater, sage, ashroot, powdered silver leaf—all from my garden. A concoction that has been used by wolves for decades to unlock, as I mentioned, latent abilities. It will weaken the walls between your blood and hers—so you can glimpse her memories, her flame.” Time seemed to slow, and I retracted into myself, introspective. My wolf quirked her head, anxious about my sudden hesitation. “I… didn’t know I would have to ingest something,” I admitted quietly. “I wanted to do it all on my own.” I paused, not brave enough to look Amaris in the eye. “With your guidance, I want to discover myself by myself. Does that make sense?”

Once they were set up, I took a seat on the couch beside Nigel as Ash knelt in front of the table, placing his hands on either side of the bowl that was now filled with water. "Now, Mason, I need you to touch the bowl and imagine who you are looking for." Ash commanded, meeting my gaze. "Make sure that you focus only on Danica, got it?" "Got it." I huffed. Sucking in a breath, I did as instructed and then let an image of my beautiful mate flash in my mind. As I did so, Ash lit a purple candle and started chanting something in a language I didn’t understand. "You’re distracting me with that chatter." I muttered, as his words drifted in and out.

The howling mountain wind tore through the ravine, carrying a freezing mist that clung to the skin like a shroud of wet ash. Outside the safehouse, the dense canopy of pine trees whipped violently against the gray sky, bending as if bowing to the massive diesel engine rumbling up the narrow access road. Headlights cut through the swirling fog, two twin beams of harsh, artificial white slashing across the timber walls before the heavy silhouette of an armored tactical personnel carrier ground to a halt fifty yards from the cabin.

Late morning sun filtered through the tree canopy lining the quiet street near the art center. Eve walked at an easy pace, tote bag over one shoulder, fresh sketch pads and a small set of watercolors packed inside for the next children's class. Jasmine drifted from someone's garden, mixed with the smell of rain drying off warm pavement. It was a route she'd walked dozens of times since coming home — familiar enough to feel safe, open enough that she could still stay alert without it costing her any peace.

If I let it remain in Darius, it will poison him slowly and reach for the boy anyway. So that leaves one path. Me. I laugh under my breath, but it sounds tired. “Of course,” I mutter. “Of course it does. It started with me, it should also end with me.” I stand and begin making a list in my head. Herbs. Stones. Binding chalk. I will need wolfbane ash, but controlled, purified. I will need silver dust, but fine, not sharp. I will need my own blood to seal the final containment.

He had been stripped of his humanity, conditioned to serve the empire, but even now, beneath the layers of stone and blood, Nia could see the faintest cracks. She stirred the brew, watching the steam rise, hoping it would soothe his body as it had in the past. She had learned the composition of the mixture by heart: frost lotus, sea salt, and a touch of lavender to calm the nerves. But tonight, she added something different—a small amount of silver sage, a herb known for its clarity-inducing properties. It wasn’t part of the usual remedy, but Nia needed answers. She needed to understand if the man before her was the Ash she remembered, or if he had become something beyond redemption.

Steel flashed in the dim light. Guards shifted right in the middle of their leap. Their wolves burst out in sprays of fur and bone. The whole battle turned chaotic. Wolves tore through shadows that dissolved into smoke. Then those shadows reformed over and over. Selene slid off her horse. Her heart pounded hard. She reached for her pouch without thinking. Inside waited a vial of powdered wolfsbane mixed with ash. It was her grandmother's charm. She scattered the stuff into the wind. She whispered a soundless plea. The dust glowed a little. The shades pulled back from it.

The crack blazed brighter than ever. For a long moment no one moved. The clearing was silent except for the hiss of the crack in the marker and the distant retreat of paws through underbrush. Mist drifted back in to fill the space where the pack had stood. Ava pulled herself upright against the stone. Her hands trembled. The silver glow had withdrawn into the token but left a faint shimmer under her skin, like moonlight trapped in her veins. She could still hear the echo of the whisper, softer now but insistent: Daughter of ash…

My palms flared with faint blue light, runes forming instinctively along my skin. “Forgive me,” I whispered, and struck. The world exploded in a burst of silver flame. The guardian howled, its body dissolving into mist, leaving behind a faint warmth and the echo of its growl. When the silence settled, I was on one knee, panting. The vial glowed softly in my hand, the water inside pulsing with energy. “Two to go,” I murmured, standing. “Hang on, Edward.” ~~~~~ The next ingredient lay within the Cavern of Ashes; a cave said to breathe smoke and bone. The legends called it cursed, but I’d stopped fearing curses.