King Of Ashes Novels & Stories

But tonight, there were no shadows left to hide in. I stood before the mirror, hands rigid at my sides as the royal blacksmith buckled the last piece of armor into place across my chest. The sigil of the royal bloodline burned in silver over my heart, the crescent fang wrapped in flame. My reflection didn’t blink. A crownless king. A grieving mate. A soldier built from broken promises. Ashley stood to the side, watching me like she wasn’t sure whether to salute or scream. “You look like him,” she said finally.

"To rising from the ashes." Natalie clinked her glass gently. "To whatever comes next." And beneath the velvet sky, with the city once again at her feet, Natalie Evans finally felt the fire inside her burn not with rage, but with purpose.

The poor guy was bending over backward to make me happy—financially, emotionally, and, unfortunately for him, physically. Bless his naive heart; he had no clue my wolf cringed whenever he brushed against me. I drank wolfsbane daily to numb the disgust and tolerate his advances whenever he asked for sex. Yet, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the power his desperation gave me. Watching him try so hard for someone who couldn’t care less was entertaining. It wasn’t until I officially became queen that I realized the extent of Asher’s wealth. Gold mines, oil exports to countless tribes, lands that seemed to go on forever—he was more than a king; he was a walking treasure chest.

Just then, a small head peeked through the suffocating smoke. “Madam, do you need any help?” someone asked timidly. I forced my eyes open and saw a young boy who was about the same age as my son. He was covered in ash and dirt, but his eyes shone brightly through the smoke. He was so small in size, yet he managed to muster the strength to help me up. Then, together, we slowly made our way outside. The path to the outside was incredibly challenging, and I felt like giving up several times.

And there's this prophecy that my father's people, a group of hags and cranks called the Synod of Ancyra, think that the child I'm going to give birth to someday is going to be the only way to save our race and give them back the power we once held. Based on this prophecy, to be exact: From the shadows of the ancient Forests, under the moon's darkest veil, a daughter of Sköll shall emerge, her fur as black as night, her spirit intertwined with magic's might. She bears the power to tip the scales, to sow either harmony's bloom or chaos's gales. The Keystone's path, a labrynth of fate, where destinies entwine and the future waits.

Cassian replied him and then moved his eyes to look at Maximus who stared at Julianne like he wanted something from her. “Who is she?” Maximus asked and Julianne looked at him. Not they? She thought and looked behind her to be sure if Marianne was still with her. She moved her eyes back to Cassian and heard him say; “Ash. She’s a newbie.” “It’s Julianne,” she made herself clear and got a grin from Cassian. “Or could be Jules,” the other one said. Funny! Julianne rolled her eyes at the back of her mind. Marianne tugged at Julianne’s cloth again and Julianne asked Cassian, “Where is it?”

She was not a prize to be fought over, and her glare told us both as much. This wasn’t the end of a war. It was the beginning of a new one, a battle far more personal and treacherous than any I had ever fought. The King of Ashes had just met his dark reflection, and the fight for his crown, his city, and the woman he loved had just begun.

I laughed coldly as tears finally streamed down my face. Thirteen years ago, a winter night. Snow fell like blades from the sky. I ran through the forest, my heart pounding with panic. Marcus had sent word that Kaelen had been kidnapped by a rival pack. Without thinking, without a proper plan, I had run straight into their territory alone. I walked right into a trap. And then the nightmare began. Five men took me, one after another. When I tried to fight back, they bound me with silver chains and carved into my skin with silver daggers, leaving scars that would never heal.

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 had no answer. She let me go. Her gaze shifted to the urn in my arms. "You won't take this when it's offered? Then I am taking it from you. "You will not see your father's ashes again." She reached. The blood in my arms went cold. The control I had been holding cracked. "Please… please don't. It wasn't me. I'll do anything, anything you want. Just don't." I was about to fall to my knees again. I would have. The pride and dignity I'd had walking in here had been gone for hours.