Rising From The Ashes Novel Andrew Novels & Stories

The world expected him to have accepted his losses and moved on. So when he pressed his lips together and nodded, looking at the floor, before answering, “I’m doing all right, Cliff. Thanks for asking,” it drew applause not because he wasn’t wonderful or perfect but because he represented triumph over tragedy. After all that he had gone through, he had come out on top, and others saw that it might be a possibility that they could do the same. “Good, good,” Cliff said, tilting his head to the side as he nodded in turn. “It does us all good to hear that.”

My life with my niece has been a total endless cycle of pain. It was like we, her family members, sat in a cinema to watch her through the projector screen and how she went through an endless, slow, burning pain, and all we could do was stare, taking in the way she fell to the earth and rose again. It felt like we'd subscribe to an endless view of her being a sad child. When I think the chapters of Rose's book are almost drawing to a finish and coming to an end, the archenemy to my happiness; pain, keeps writing a new one.

The loss of life was staggering today, and when the dust settled I could only hope things were better, different, the world we had hoped for. “Cain” the old Nephilim began, his hands applying gentle pressure to my side, where blood was continuing to seep out. “You need to rest.” I grunted in response, hauling myself to my feet. Wanting to simply pass out and never wake up. Just join Verity and Shamshiel wherever their spirits were, but I knew that was not to be. I headed toward my room, my feet dragging on the ground and my head bent low. I swung by the kitchen area, grabbing a bit of food and quickly devouring it on my way to my room. If I was lucky maybe I would choke on it. Kicking off my

She couldn't break free from his embrace, and her vigorous resistance became increasingly feeble. She had almost surrendered when the baby's cry suddenly echoed from upstairs, exceptionally loud. "Let, let go of me, Asher, Asher is awake!" She used both hands and feet to clumsily fall off the sofa. Then, in a panic, she ran upstairs. Behind her, Andrew sat up from the sofa. His slender fingertips gently brushed over his thin lips, and an elegant smile curved his lips. He licked his lips, feeling his blood boiling. Unlike his interactions with other women, he eagerly desired her, "mate." He stared at her departing figure, softly calling out.

“That bastard? Did he get away?” Andrew and I turned at the same time to look over our shoulders before exchanging glances. Andrew crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his bloodstained hands. On our way here, he had crushed Gary’s heart and discarded it. I supposed I needed to get used to the way Andrew dealt with his enemies—though, deep down, I hoped there wouldn’t be any more enemies left for us to face or kill. I wish for peace for both of us from now on. That hope made me lift my gaze toward the moon shining through the canopy of trees.

The Rachel Beaumont spark was quenched; reigniting it is a tough one, but I would eventually because it was who I was and will forever be. A few years back I gave up everything all for love and got nothing but heartbreak and betrayal, a mistake I should have never made, but it’s of no use crying over spilt milk. I was done playing helpless, Rachel, especially since Darius had finally succeeded in kickstarting the part where Andrew is brought down to his knees. Even though Andrew had no idea of what was coming for him, everything was set. Andrew, seated at the head of the table, looked up, his expression turning red with anger.

I muttered. Cassie stood, dusting ash from her legs. "You're a bad liar." She grabbed the med kit out of Andrew's duffel, who lay on the floor next to her, groaning with a broken rib but otherwise alive—because Cassie had pulled him out when the roof caved in. "Sit," she ordered. I didn't argue. I sat in the one chair that remained standing as she knelt at my feet, cutting open my shirt to see the full extent of the damage. Her fingers touched mine—tender, professional—but every touch set something in me ablaze that I could not quench.

The party ended in smoke and silence. Not because it was over but because he made sure it would never be forgotten. The silence that followed Andrew’s vanishing act was louder than any explosion. One second, they were celebrating love; the next, they stood in a war zone. White rose petals lay like snow on the ground, stained with dirt and ashes. Tables were flipped. Dishes shattered. The smell in the air was a strange mix of burnt wires, smoke, and something metallic.

Both choices I make has consequences which would either kill me or the mass of this kingdom. I begin crying even harder , my tears water the weeds that poke out of the soil. I feel Andrew’s hand rubbing my back slightly , which helps me to calm down a bit. A white rose comes in to my view – a freshly plucked one. Andrew puts it in my line of vision as I currently have my head bowed.

Even between myself and my sister, the number of times that we had one occur, we could count on our fingers, and even then—it wasn't very often. However, this sensation that I was going through. It wasn't quite a vision. More like it felt like an extremely suffocating out of body experience. I was on Asgard again; yet this time, I had sensed that there was trouble. All around me I saw nothing but walls of orange-red fires that engulfed the city. The great city itself was on fire. Multiple buildings that had been made from gold and silver were melting away in the searing fire. Ashes were raining down from the sky, touching the moss on the cobblestone which in turn caused the ground beneath my