Sing Ash Novels & Stories

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.

They did not make resolutions. They made assessments — it was a distinction Zara had introduced in the first year of their marriage and that Caleb had found so aligned with his own instincts that he had adopted it without discussion. A resolution was a performance of intent. An assessment was an honest accounting of what was true and what needed to be different.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of Olivia's fear through their mate bond, the sensation crawling under his skin like a persistent itch. But right now, all he could do was wait for the jet to be ready, and waiting was something he was never good at. Needing to take the edge off his nerves, Asher headed down to the hotel bar, hoping a drink might dull the restless energy coursing through him. The bar was dimly lit, with a warm amber glow casting shadows on the polished wood and leather seating. It was quieter than usual; only a few patrons scattered around. He ordered a neat whisky from the bartender and took a seat in the corner. The sharp burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat was a welco

he asked sounding a tad weak. Ash hummed, "After my mo-the woman hired to play my mother was killed, I wished I could just erase my life, burn it down to nothing", he swallowed, "I didn't tell you the whole story, my grandfather killed or attempted to kill my grandmother when my father was my age, and it's apparently a family, initiation thing", he made a face as if he'd tasted something vile, swallowing he continued, "Obviously my grandmother survived probably using another decoy to protect herself, she, however, couldn't change the way her son ended up thinking, and apparently that man has wires in his brain screwed wrong", he said shaking his head. "If I can't erase who I am, or burn my p

The love in their eyes made me feel that this trip through the human world had been more than worth it. I slowly closed my eyes. Right before they shut completely, I had a strange feeling and turned my head toward the narrow glass window in the door. Through it, I saw a handsome face with red eyes and trembling lips. It was Cole. My vision, my sense of touch, and my sense of smell began to fade as I waited for death to take me. Seconds before I lost my hearing too, I heard people shouting my name from all around. In the midst of all the noise, I caught one voice that wasn't loud at all. It should've been clear and cool, but right then it was hoarse. Its owner called out, "Izzy."

and a particularly large Lycan “asher” She looked around. "They are close friends. I’ll introduce the others after the meeting" she finished. Ruke stood up and faced the many lycans present. He wasted no time in telling them he had found his mate, after which he beckoned Lang Lang to speak to them about the prophecy. When she had finished, a very blonde Lycan with a mole on his nose spoke up, ”what have we got to do with the prophecy,“ he asked, witha bored look on his face.

Then "You drugged me." "It was necessary." The man lifted up a syringe, the metal needle glinting dangerously in the bright light. "As is this." He stepped toward Belishaw. Belishaw roared, but the sound was human. His dragon was gone. "You'll just feel a little stick." Sinclair chuckled as he plunged the needle into Belishaw's arm, injecting a yellow liquid into him. "What the bloody hell did you give me?" Despite the strength behind Belishaw's voice, he was panicking. The dragon inside him had never left him before. It had been suppressed and buried, yes, but never gone.

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.

I remember that. Ali "Yeah. I hope you won't forget that." Ash "Remember the day when You were in my room and you were teasing me while Mom was on the door?" Ali "Yeah your face expressions were hilarious." Ash "Since that day I promised myself for taking revenge for that. " Ali "Oh really my princess?and how would you do that?" As I asked that she placed her left on my thighs. Oh God she was rubbing it slowly. I choked. Ash "What happened? Have the water you will feel better"

He cries out and fall on his knees in pain. "The next time I'm going to put this on your balls, I will then put it under your feet." I'm going to find your bones and I'm going to melt it. So now, tell me what I need to know. Asha says and honestly, I was expecting to have to use my energy to make this work. I do not have forever to spend here trying to get the truth from these intruders.The intruders still didn't want to speak, Asha goes back into the fire and picks up the metal.