Poppy Blood And Ash Novels & Stories

“There you are, my little slave.” Ashley’s stomach twisted at the sound of his voice, but she stood her ground. “It’s over, Adonis.” He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Oh, Ashley. It’s far from over.” And then, with a snap of his fingers, the gunfire erupted. --- The battle was swift and brutal. Adonis’s men swarmed the cabin, but Ashley, Demon, and their allies fought back with everything they had. The air was filled with the deafening sounds of gunfire and shouts, and the smell of smoke and blood filled Ashley’s lungs.

Asher’s POV “This is a crazy deal.” I said. “You really thought we would just hand him back to you?” Gustavo’s voice carried a mocking ease, like he was savoring the moment, his lips curling into a grin that set every nerve in me on fire “I thought,” I said slowly, my gaze flicking from him to Anna, “that blood would mean something even to you” Anna tilted her head, “Blood is what ruined us, Asher, don’t try to wield it like it’s sacred, you forfeited any claim to it when you tried to erase me in that forest”

"Take it now! Your blood pressure is high!" Asher cried out, seeing the unwilling old master. His eyes blinked anxiously as he forced the liquid pill he had in his pocket down Macerio’s veins through a spare needle. He heaved a deafening sigh, noticing that his skin was no longer pale. Meanwhile, Olive stood watching as Asher attended to Johnson like his own father.

She groans, “Okay, so he’s doing something that we don’t understand with these blood-bagged Vampires that means he needs to keep a fresh supply going. Is there any benefit to drinking vampire blood? Is it more potent or something?” Ash shakes his head, “No, nothing like that. The only reason I could think of would be as part of mating. But that’s only a sip, and you wouldn’t do that to someone who’s essentially brain-dead. Shit. This is all kinds of wrong, Honey.” Ash looks ill, too pale. She stands and goes to them, taking one of each of their hands. They give her weak half-smiles, and she sighs.

Her breathing evens out again, and I feel nothing but peace through the bond from her. I’m not sure how long I lay there, just holding her, but I’d happily do it for the rest of my life. I go over everything again. The blood tests, the powers, the ancient texts. Paige is sunlight. Poppy is darkness. No, that isn’t right. Darkness sounds empty, and there’s nothing empty about Poppy.

he blew out. Asher stretched his nail on her forehead and sliced it, blood trickled down her face. Asher slid his tongue on it and licked her raw blood. The lady let out a mousy cry as she lost her energy to protest and yell loudly, he dug his teeth in his neck and sucked out her soul and reserved their bodies for his master play.

Instead, he seemed to be watching the forest with an unusual stillness, as though listening for something that did not belong to the present moment. When she sat beside him, he did not look surprised. “You found her name,” he said quietly. Aisha did not deny it. “Yes,” she replied. Arman nodded once, as though that confirmation was enough. “She used to bring marigolds,” he said after a moment. Aisha felt a subtle shift in her attention. “Marigolds?” He nodded again. “She said they helped people remember warmth. She would place them near the window so the light would touch them first.”

But she feels it. Her fingers tighten around mine. She knows. Of course she knows. She always knows. I take another step. Then another. And the world tilts. Not dramatically. Not violently. Subtly. As if gravity itself has shifted allegiance. My vision blurs at the edges again. Sound distorts. The red lights multiply. Or maybe there are just more of them now. My knee buckles. I catch myself. Barely. The poison has reached too deep. The silver in my bloodstream has found something vital and wrapped itself around it with quiet inevitability.

Xander sat still as the nurse carefully collected the blood samples, her gloved hands working swiftly and professionally, but he couldn’t feel anything anymore—not the prick of the needle, not the sting of pain, not even the ache in his back from hours of sitting. His mind was in a haze, a tunnel of grief, panic, and desperate hope. He kept staring at the tray of vials filled with his blood as if they were some sort of offering—his sacrifice, his gift, his last attempt to save the woman who had changed his life in ways he couldn’t begin to explain.

Sienna's POV A steel-toed boot slammed into my ribs, and I curled on the ground, coughing up blood. "Get up, little she-wolf." Chief Elder Marcus looked down at me, a vicious smile on his face. Behind him stood a dozen armed men—Brynn's mercenaries. "The game is over." I pushed myself up, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth onto the grass. The forest around us was burning. Jake and the other rangers were already down, lying motionless nearby.