Pokemon Dark Ash Novels & Stories

Rei finally replied, the cat having set his tongue free. Asia's eyes widened as he pointed at himself, mouthing the word, "Me?" "Do you know Dian Aoki?" "Ah, the legendary grandmaster from one of Bronze Orchid's myths and tales. I've heard a thing or two. What about it?" He asked so casually, even while wearing Dian's face. Kamman's heart dropped to his stomach. "Are you...him?" Rei asked hesitantly. Asia looked at them as if they had lost their minds, then he burst out laughing once again, this time even clutching his stomach. After struggling to stifle it, he said,

POV: Ash Ryder "Get out of my way, you mindless filth, or I’ll paint this ice with whatever rot you have for blood!" Ash’s voice was no longer the steady, commanding baritone of the Silverfang Alpha. It was a jagged, raw snarl that vibrated with a terrifying lack of restraint. He lunged forward, his silver dagger flashing in a lethal arc as it sank into the neck of a Shadow-beast. The creature, a twisted mass of smoke and elongated bone, didn't even have time to hiss before Ash ripped the blade sideways, decapitating it with a spray of violet ichor that sizzled against the frozen ground.

Gold and silver light began to glow from my palm, spreading across his skin like gentle fire. His shaking slowed. His breathing steadied. The rippling stopped, and his body settled into his human form, exhausted but whole. "How did you..." he breathed, his amber eyes wide with wonder. "I don't know," I admitted. "I just can. What's your name?" "Ash," he whispered. "My name is Ash." "I'm Hope," I said, smiling at him. "Do you want to come meet my Mama and Papa? They'll keep you safe."

He looked directly into the camera, his eyes seeming to bore into mine. “Hello, brother,” his recorded voice said, smooth and mocking. “I do hope you’re not too disappointed. I couldn't risk you interrupting my actual business, after all.” He took a slow sip of his whiskey. “Rico was a gift, you know. A necessary sacrifice. So loyal, so predictable. The perfect bait to draw the great King of Ashes out of his castle.” A cold dread, far worse than anything I’d felt on the rooftop, began to creep up my spine. This wasn’t the main event. This was a diversion.

She’d come to see the bastard in the ground for herself. Dorian Ashford’s coffin sat there, slick and shiny, all polished mahogany that hollered wealth even as it sank toward the dirt. The priest mumbled some nonsense about peace everlasting, his voice half-drowned by the storm, but Sienna didn’t hear a word. Her eyes were glued to that box, her jaw locked tight. Twenty-seven years of bile churned inside her. He’d left her mom to waste away in a rusted trailer, coughing up her last breaths, while he piled up his shipping billions—money built on the wreckage of the only person who’d ever given a damn about him.

Pamela struggled to hide her groan. Before them stood a shirtless DJ. His left hand clung tightly onto the handle of a tool box. He looked as though he was pulled out from the covers of men's magazines. His strong muscled chest, oily with sweat and his well defined chisel Adonis V was a sight to behold. Ashley swallowed. She had never seen him shirtless. She had never seen him this indecently sexy. “Ashley?” DJ called, surprise filled his tone. “DJ, I think -” A feminine voice called from behind Ashley and Pamela.

Violet’s P.O.V. Hael ripped the phone from my hand before I could utter so much as a word. “Who the hell is this and how do you know Violet?” He snapped. The man replied just as I reached out to take the phone back. He spoke with a cool tone, as though he wasn’t at all surprised at how things had turned out. “Hael Ashford, I presume. Your reputation precedes you. Nice to finally make your acquaintance.” There was something so oddly familiar about this man’s voice. The smooth baritone and the way each word spilled seamlessly from his mouth; it cultivated a flicker of recognition that I just couldn’t place.

The collar rune around my throat snapped—light cracking like glass. It dissolved. Mara’s face twisted with rage. “No,” she hissed. “You don’t get to—” “I do,” I snapped. I turned to the black-water seam and spoke the only command that mattered. “RETURN.” Ash surged—not upward, not outward—*sideways*, into the water like a hook. The black water fought, swirling, trying to swallow my ash. I clenched my jaw and pushed. “RETURN HER.” The water bulged. A shape rose.

I chuckled breathlessly, blinking back the emotion that prickled behind my eyes. “Now, I’d definitely puke on everyone.” She grinned, making it nearly impossible to remain nervous and fearful. “Would you mind if I borrowed our Luna?” Asher’s gravelly voice slid up my spine, wrapping around my neck as it filtered through my ears. I turned and tried not to lose my breath entirely. His usually messy hair was styled, paired perfectly with the button-down shirt and slacks he wore. The dark colored clothing made the unusual shade of gold in his eyes stand out, swirling and churning with the darkness in them.

Sinful doesn't have to fake around anyone. "I apologise that I sent Asher to retrieve you. I'm sure you are familiar with his name, as you look like a Desire Pack member. Am I wrong?" he asks, clasping his hands to his front as he gives me his full attention. He knows full well he isn't wrong.