Kratos Before Ashes Novels & Stories

Her stomach was bandaged, but her face wore a victorious smile. "Do you know what he told me just now?" She pulled a small crystal out of a bag on her wheelchair. The crystal glowed, projecting an image into the air. I saw myself thirteen years ago—in rags, covered in wounds, taken and broken by three rival Alphas. I was crawling on the ground, weeping, begging for mercy. "Shut up!" I snarled. "He said," Seraphina continued, letting the humiliating images play, "that he only saved you back then out of pity. But now, he's found the woman he was truly meant to love."

Right after posting it, while I was still reading comments mocking me for putting on a tough front, I saw Immortal Ashes Team’s official account tag me in a post, openly standing by my side. "The crowd follows the herd. The strong walk alone. Those who don’t know how to cherish what they have will lose it. Ash Mercer, we stand with you. IA will always be your strongest backing."

Tears streamed down my face, dripping into my father's ashes and staining them dark. I did not wipe my face. I did not respond to Stella. I did not look at Hudson, who stood beside her with an undisguised smirk. I reached out with trembling hands, gathering the ashes little by little, trying to put them back into the urn. "I'm sorry, Dad... I'm so sorry... this is my fault..." Hudson had his arm around Stella's waist. He let out a theatrical sigh. "Damon, don't take it too hard. The man is already dead. Besides, this was your own carelessness..."

Aisha felt her breath slow slightly at the phrasing, because it carried a philosophical tone that did not belong purely to hallucination, nor purely to clinical instruction, but to something in between that unsettled her more than either extreme would have. She looked at him more closely now. “And Zara?” she asked. For the first time, something softened in his expression. “She brought something for her once,” he said. Aisha frowned. “Brought what?” Arman’s hand tightened slightly around the edge of the notebook. “A small stitched doll,” he said. “For grounding exercises. She said it would help stabilize emotional attachment during distress.” Aisha felt her mind sharpen instantly at the phras

She didn’t understand all of it—but she knew this wasn’t just war. This was betrayal. Revolution. And love—bleeding at the center of it all. In the heart of the storm, Asher fought like a force of nature—wounded but unyielding. He took down three of Aiden’s lieutenants with bone-cracking precision, blood staining the marble beneath him. But it was not enough. He was surrounded. And just as Julian stepped forward to strike, a howl rang through the mountain—raw, broken, familiar. Akira.

The roof had already caved in, filling the air with a deafening crackle. Near the edge of the burning wreckage, three Black Moon guards sat propped against a large granite boulder. Beta Torin was already on his knees beside them, pressing a thick cloth against a young guard's bleeding shoulder. Asher swung down from his horse before the horse even came to a complete stop. His boots hit the mud with a heavy thud as he marched straight toward the injured guards. I dismounted quickly, letting my reins drop to the wet ground, and ran after him.

Euryale was burning Crimson and Jenna with venom. Susan, Andrews and Kristina had ganged up along with the Lieutenant, firing away with lazer blasts from the fresh supply of weapons that Carter and Henry had brought with them from the facility. But their efforts seemed to be proving futile when some of the blasts simply bounced off of Kratos’s broad and jacked chest. He roared and charged at them, thrusting out his arms ready to turn them into pulp but was thrown back when something sharp streaked past his shoulder. It was Carmen. She was firing her mystical arrows that shot off glistening electrically like tiny bolts of lightning. Kratos drew back, taking cover, where Diana struck out at hi

"Yeah." Giving the twins one final kiss, I dislodged myself and picked up my backpack. Hoisting it onto my back, I took a deep breath. "I love you guys." I said before turning and heading out. When I arrived at the packgrounds, everyone was already there, waiting. Ashton was now fully dressed and looked like a soldier ready to go to war with his forest green shirt, khaki pants, and tan hiking boots. Asher wore a black robe and his permanent new fixture, the golden mask he was given to hide his burn scars. His eyes watched me with exhaustion, and I could only guess that he had been up for the rest of the night creating our portal to the inbetween.

Asher had crashed into a building, bringing it down instantly. As he got up, he stared at the people in front of him and then he heard the voice in his mind. ‘Yes Asher, go on, kill them, kill them all. They killed her, they took her from you. Kill all of them, show them what you are made of.’ His eyes were pitch black and raising his hand, more buildings set ablaze. Screams of pain filled everywhere and although Edward tried to quench the fire, more buildings kept burning and with each passing second, countless wolves fell to their death.

Toward. Toward Ash. Toward Cove. Toward the kid about to explode. “Mother!” Wrath shouts. “Don’t!” I hit the vines. They don’t grab me. They part. First Blood knows First Blood. Ash is on her knees. Burning. Cove is on his. Smoking. Vines connecting them. Feeding. Killing both. I drop between them. Bone knife’s in my hand. Again. Always. “Stop,” I tell them. To Cove. To Ash. To the Tree. “Both of you. Stop.”