Romans & histoires Reborn From Ashes

"Let’s talk about important things before you finally wake up. We don't have much time." "Talk about what?" Zayla asked, her heart beginning to pick up speed again. "Before you went into that world, I told you my intention was to show you the beginning," Serenya said She let out a long, weary sigh as if the weight of a millennium was finally catching up to her. "Alright, let me chew my words for you since I’m feeling generous. Instead of making you figure it out, I’ll tell you: Remiel and Asher are the same soul. He was reborn, just like you. He died one thousand years ago, and he came back."

Ash smiled slowly, reverent and pressed her palm into the torch’s flame. The skin sizzled. She didn’t flinch. “She made me in her image,” Ash whispered, voice trembling with reverence and rage. “And then she tried to bury what she’d created.” Her gaze lifted to the blackened cross still hanging above the altar. “But daughters always rise from their mother’s bones.” The crowd roared. Chanting her name. Ash. Ash. Ash. And from the smoke-filled rafters, the first snow of burning ash fell soft as blessing, cruel as prophecy.

Tubes drained fluid, and nurses flitted around adjusting drips and monitoring vitals. Ayisha groaned softly, her lips barely able to form words. “We… did it.” Tessa blinked through the haze, pain wrapping her entire body. “I don’t… feel like myself.” “That’s the point,” Ayisha whispered, eyes fierce even through the fog of medication. “You’ll never be the same again. We’re reborn.” “My children won’t recognize me anymore.” Ayisha let out a sigh. “Girl, those babies ain’t know what you look like. They can’t remember you.”

His brows furrow while he steps forward, reaching to me, and after Ashron is a few inches in front of me, he holds my face, then elevates it until I see his stunning stares. I gulp because his face was too stunning than Arthur's, "Can I rewind everything?" After I asked him that, Ashron's eyes widened per his shock after hearing my request. "Why?" He asks while I feel his thumb brushing my cheeks. "I want to be reborn again." I want to change my life, and I want to escape from my current situation. Ashron takes a deep sigh while he removes his hands from my face. "If you want to be reborn again, you can use your red key and green after you transfer to your new body."

"Hold on." Morgana raised her hands and the binding circle shattered. Possessed Darius lunged immediately, but we were ready. Our combined power slammed into him, forcing him back down to his knees. He howled, a sound of pure rage that wasn't entirely human. "Now!" Morgana shouted. "Infuse the ingredients!" I crushed the phoenix ash in my hand, feeling it burn against my already ruined skin. But instead of more pain, I felt warmth. Rebirth. The ash glowed gold, responding to my will, my desperate need to save my brother.

Rose’s POV I didn’t even realize I had moved until my knuckles were white, twisted deep into the cheap fabric of the masseuse collar. My vision was tunneling, the edges of the room turning into a blurred mess of moss covered walls and expensive aromatherapy steam. I wasn't the reborn woman anymore. I was that girl in the basement again, feeling the cold steel of the dagger pressing against my stomach. "Who gave you this?!" I screamed. My voice sounded shredded, like I had been swallowing glass. "Who? Answer me!"

“Do you see, Luka? Even the fire couldn’t take me. I was chosen in the flames.” He pressed the paste against her shoulder. She hissed, but her hand shot out and seized his wrist with surprising strength. Her nails dug into his skin. “Don’t look at me as if I’m broken,” she whispered. “I am not broken. I am… reborn.” Luka’s eyes flicked to hers, unreadable. Then, after a long moment, he nodded once. “Then let us make use of that rebirth.” He tied the bandage tight, his motions brisk, practiced. “The city thinks you’re ash. Whispers of your survival spread already. That fear is worth more than a thousand blades.”

It was this visceral, electric feeling of victory, surrendering to the universe itself holding its breath, waiting to see what I would do next. This was only the start. Аlone the first few threads of the way I was spinning. But oh, when I was finished? When all was said and done? The Ashford Pack would be nothing but ash blown to the wind. The loyalty, the sacred bond between the two — all busted. Beyond repair. Beyond hope. And when they fell, when their world shattered and smoldered away to nothing, the witches—my kind—would rise from the ashes. Stronger. Unstoppable. Like a reborn phoenix, only more vicious. Hungrier. Prepared to take back what had always belonged to us.

And whispered, “If you’ve waited this long, then hear me now—I will not be your puppet. I’ll shape you into something worth surviving.” From the sky, a soft pulse responded. Not threatening. But listening. --- Far across the world, in the Ashborn capital, a priestess knelt before her flame altar and screamed. The fire had gone cold. And from its ashes, a black bloom grew. ---

“I love Joe more than anything and I want him to father my children but he won’t have it.” “Can you blame him?” “But you survived!” Ann tapped loudly on the table. “Correction, she died and somehow she came back.” “Ash’s blood brought her back.” “Maria, stop acting naive! Ash’s blood heals. It doesn’t resurrect people. Joe had her heart in his hand, doing all the pumping for her for hours before it pumped on its own. Luck doesn’t come knocking on your door twice, so forget about it Maria.”