The Ashes Of His Name Novels & Stories

“But this time… I’m the one with the knife.” She folded the report shut and placed it neatly in her drawer, locking it with a quiet click. Then she walked toward the window and pulled back the curtain. The city was alive beneath her, glittering like a thousand fragile lies. She was done being haunted. She wasn’t going to fall again. She would burn him slowly, elegantly, methodically until he had nothing left but regrets and the ruins of a kingdom he thought he built alone. And this time… She wouldn’t stop until the ashes bore her name.

I wanted to see the man who had discarded me look up from the dirt and realize who had truly destroyed him. Asher’s heavy SUV roared down the concrete ramp, entering the garage with a deafening screech of tires. He killed the engine, slammed the door, and strode toward us, his massive frame still dripping with rainwater and grease from the perimeter sweep. His dark shirt was torn at the shoulder, revealing the hard, scarred muscle beneath.

Enrique told me his name was Alex. “No,” he continues, his jaw tightening for just a fraction of a second, the hint of old scars lurking beneath calm. “Alexander was my father’s name. The name died with him. I’m Ash.” R-i-g-h-t. Who wants a murderer’s name? No one sane. But Ash? “The man who raised him, gave it to him … Blackburn … burn … ash,” John offers, grinning. “Got a nice ring, doesn’t it?” “Oh … okay.” Guess it makes sense. Ash … clean, sharp, unburdened.

Quinn wondered. “Lord Ash is the perfect cover. As for whether she’s worth it, you’ll understand if you find love.” Asher downed the whole content in his glass in one go and leaned back in his seat to rest. He hadn’t been sleeping for days due to the fear of what might be happening to Anamika. Quinn July stared fixedly at him. Who would have thought that the country’s ruthless undercover Lord Ash, would be this crazy over a woman? How did he even assume the name of Lord Ash?

“You stand.” “Yes.” “You burn.” My knees trembled. “No. I don’t break.” Ateron stepped closer. “Show me.” Hamish whispered frantically, “Ashen, hold the balance presence steady.” I focused inward— finding the golden warmth again— the calm center. The flame paused. Ateron’s voice slid through my ribs like a heated blade. “Identity.” I lifted my head. “I am Ashen.” Ateron burned brighter. “Ashen is a name. Not a fire.”

Dead, nameless men. “Turn to your left.” It was a repeat of his last tour, flashing through his mind. Dead friends, dead brothers. Bodies left in the sand. The whir of a helicopter’s blades as they were flown back to base, bruised, bloody, and sometimes broken. “You can wash your hands over there,” Mike said. Asher could feel the darkness clouding his mind, creeping along his spine, settling in his soul. He closed his eyes as he washed the ink from his fingers. He needed to breathe.

The silence between them stretched for a while before Eliana finally spoke again. “What’s your name?” He glanced at her briefly. “You already know my role.” “That’s not what I asked.” There was silence. Eliana sighed dramatically. “You know, normal people introduce themselves.” “I am not people.” “Still rude though.” Another silence followed. Then finally— “Ashen.” She nearly stopped walking. “What?” “My name,” he said flatly. “It is Ashen.” The name suited him disturbingly well. cold and sharp. Beautiful in a strange way.

Letting my gun rest casually in his direction, on my lap. His eyes lock onto my gun, before he manages to stand up, moving his hands along his throat, as if to relieve some of the pain. "I don't know a whole lot..." He begins, making my feet hit the ground, as I clasp the gun, pointing it in his direction. "I just know a name." He quickly states, peeking my interest. "What name?" I ask. "Rapture." He says. "What kind of name is that?" I ask. "It's not his real name. Only his hacker name. No one knows his real name." He states.

“Why can’t you just be Rome, and I’ll just be Ella? Do we need our last names?” She thought she heard a sound on the roof and quieted to listen. Only a stirring of the trees and bushes hit her ear, so she continued. “It’s just his name my father doesn’t like, not Rome himself. He doesn’t even know him. And Verona isn’t anything but a name--it’s not him, not part of who he is, like an arm or a leg. He could just… change his name. A rose would still smell as sweet if it were called something else. And Rome would still be perfect, even if his last name was something else. If he could give up his name, maybe then, he could have me.”

The cloud of smoke disappeared and the roots of the tree shot from the ground and stopped at my feet, then rose to meet my hand. I took it without hesitation. The tree hugged me and I fell into a dark haze. ~~ “I’m sorry I tried to harm you,” a deep voice said. “Who are you?” I asked. “I apologize; my name is Asher. I’m the Aspen tree you’ve come to,” it said. “I came because you called me,” I said. I looked around trying to follow the voice. “No need for that. There’s no light here. I didn’t know it was a new era,” he said.