Lord Ashura Novels & Stories

It felt like something had shifted, like a glass had shattered and even though the pieces were swept away, you could still hear the shattering sound of it breaking if you listened closely enough. No one said anything. Not even Craig, considering he always had something to say. And that was saying something. I leaned back slightly in my chair, exhaling slowly, only just realizing I had been holding my breath through most of that entire exchange. My fingers still tingled faintly, goosebumps lingering on my skin like a reminder that I had just witnessed something extremely monumental, and phenomenal. “You people can go back to work now,” Lana said, already turning to her laptop like she hadn’t

“We’ll do it together. You don’t have to prove yourself alone, Elias. We’ll clear your name, and we’ll burn out whoever’s hiding behind theirs.” The Concord Sigil flared bright across my chest, brighter than before, like it had been waiting for this vow. The crowd fell into a stunned hush at the sight, students shifting uncertainly, faculty exchanging worried glances. But not all of them. Professor Shara Baudoin, the Hawthorne healer, stepped forward, eyes steady, voice even. “The boy speaks truth. No one who fights like that bleeds betrayal.” Ashleigh Dana raised her chin, wild and defiant. “If the Interregnum has touched my House, then it is my duty to burn them out. And I will.” Her gaze

Oh now you have definitely crossed the line, I will make sure you are charged for assault you hear me , this will be your last day in this school Sooha did not bother to turn back Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting to Pappie’s on time it was now looking like an impossible task

If the rumours are true, I know Asher must have some. "You know the immortal lands are no place for her," Asher mutters in reply, turning his back as of to expel all of the conversation. It left an awkward air between us, even as Aspen continues to fight his brother, who has walked to a cupboard hitched up on the wall. He opens it, pulling out a small crystal glass and an unfamiliar type of alcohol in a blue bottle. "She can help us, you know that," Aspen exasperates. Asher doesn't say anything, as he pours a drink, and turns back around. His persona from serious, has molded into one of amusement, as his eyes gleam testily.

“Few things about your martyr were erased from history. My forefather, the Alpha of your time was the one who ordered you killed, so the real history was passed down to me. He was known to be the only Alpha who was able to conquer you, but in his doings, he did not completely erase you. He couldn't at all. A prophecy was made that era that in another lifetime, a descendant of your lover’s bloodline shall be the one to free you.” Lucan rose up to his feet slowly, wincing with pains as he did. He pointed to Rose, “Emmett, this is the person you seek for, the one who by fate broke the spell on your ashes."

Mane rushed to Asherah, swiftly sheathing Nightmare and Night’s Kiss in the process. The Asura was being suppressed by Komfo Anokye, but it was taxing to do so. Zica’s letter had taught him two things: one was that the Usurper was coming, and the other was how to put the Asura to sleep.

Light dimmed to eclipse for a heartbeat, painting every face in beautiful shadow. A crown, Nyxara purred. Show it what to do besides own you. I lifted my palms. “Bring me ash.” --- POV: Wolves We brought what we had ash of collars kept to remember, ash of burned vows, ash of humbled roots, ash of banners cut down when hands needed to feel sharp. Kade’s echo our boy who’d learned what to shout stepped first, both palms full. He offered it as the truth. Araya bowed; he poured. The ash vanished into her hair as if it had waited for this work.

I whispered in his ear. "I owe you more than that, Anna. The first celebration on our return is going to be our Marking ceremony as we have delayed it enough, Can't wait to make love to you in our room," Asher took me in his arms and placed a kiss on my forehead while all his warriors chanted. "Luna!" "Luna!"

“Good. Skepticism. The young in my day swallowed prophecy like milk. It curdled them.” Behind her, Scar muttered, “I like him already.” Luna did not take her eyes off the stranger. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you?” He tilted his head. Something in that tilt—wary, analytical—echoed an old posture she had seen in the Moon Temple statues. “I am Ashar,” he said. “Once called Ashar of the First Circle. Alpha of Ashen Reach. Pact-holder. Gate-watcher. And very, very tired of being dead.”

The shard pulsed with approval, its rhythm syncing to her defiance, its hunger fed by her refusal to yield. But then I saw it—the shadow creeping at her back, the cost she had not wanted to see. A man lay at her feet, his chest unmoving, eyes closed as flames licked the edges of his body. His hand still reached for hers, though he was long gone. Ashara’s power had saved her, but it had claimed him. The shard whispered through me, a cruel caress: She chose, as you must.