The Ashfire King Novels & Stories

So far, neither of them has started spontaneously bleeding. Ash's gaze swept the warehouse, searching out some of the bigger players. He was pleased to see Tyson King, one of the city's most prominent businessmen with a penchant for illegal fights and underground gambling. The big, dark-skinned man was deep in conversation with his loyal bodyguard, and Ash's friend, Daniel Mercer. King could easily afford to sponsor Ash in the fights. He would be a good one to impress. Sitnikov himself wasn't in attendance, Ash noted, though several of his soldiers were.

Ashari says, tapping her fingers on the table. “How about us?” I turn my head. New people have joined the table. Kimmie, Conan and Fenor. They must have come when I was fighting the urge to run away due to Ashari. “You will also get your chance then. When the King is devastated by his mate's death and distracted, his parents will be the same. No one will expect us to attack right there, and they will all die.” Ashari says. “But what about the foxboy?” King Edor asks, raising an eyebrow as everyone looks at him. “I may have my own focus here, but I am not stupid or deaf.” He says, crossing his arms. Ashti smirks, telling the guard to let her guests inside.

Director Ahmid Rodrigo ordered, giving Knight and not the man who first spoke a sharp look. Something was going on there, but Kira didn’t know what, and she didn’t have time to wonder about it, not when the director kept on talking. “Staff Sergeants Reese and Martin, I’d like to introduce you to the AHDF’s Alpha Team. Captain Knight Adamson leads it while Sergeant Rina Abello is the second-in-command. William Easton, Ralph Bones, Angel Nova, and Isa Ludwig round the team out. Everyone but Ludwig came out of the Recon Marines, while she came out of the Night Stalkers unit. With all your various military backgrounds, I trust you eight will get along.”

Ash bows his head graciously, “Asher Wild, Prince to the Vampire King of England. But please, call me Ash. Everyone does, it feels weird to have people say my full name now.” The king bows his head, “Her loss, if only temporary, is felt keenly here.” Luther says, and Ash nods,

The wind scattered the ashes, and the rain soaked them, washing them away little by little amidst the flowing water. Sheila fell out of her wheelchair and hit the ground. Ignoring the pain, she crawled toward the drain, desperately trying to gather the ashes with her hands. It was hopeless. "My baby… My baby..." She could only watch as her child's ashes slowly disappeared. There was nothing she could do. It felt as though someone had torn her heart apart. She knelt in the mud, sobbing as she reached deep into the drain again and again. Her hands quickly became caked with filth, but she kept searching.

Ten minutes to go. My phone lies silent in my palm. I press the button, watch the screen go black, and slide it into my pocket. Hours pass. The room grows stale and sour with fatigue. Coffee goes cold. Jackets are shrugged off and thrown over chairs. Men stop pretending patience. The live feed stutters in and out, revealing only fragments: movement between trees, dark figures cutting through rock and brush, the white bite of muzzle flashes, then darkness again. Our men hold position near the camp, waiting, watching, refusing to yield an inch.

” I heard Cassine excitedly say while pointing at the only bench where you could see the whole field. “Oh no Cassine. That is a bad idea,” I immediately protested while pulling her away from that place before the owner come. “But why?” She asked. “Do you remember the man who shouted at you for seating beside him a while back?” I asked in response. “Ah, yeah?” “His name is Ash.” I paused as I waited for her to realize that the man was the queen’s son. “You mean the future king?!” She asked in shock as expected. Everyone already knew that the future king’s name is Ash but not everyone has seen his face.

I probably just sign my death certifacte. Anticapation has sweat beading on my forhead. My lungs burn from holding my breath for to long. To afraid to move, when the feeling of rough fingers wrapping around my throat forces me to lift my head.My lungs cant take any more and i exhale. My eyes are still closed to afaird to look death in the eyes"look at me little mouse" he says His voice has me pushing my thighs together to stop the the rush of tingles running through them. The sound smooth like velvet, drawing me in "God What is wrong with me" i think I force my eyes open and look at him. His saphire blue eyes are the first thing i see. A think scar runs aross the side of his right eye .Stra

Its owner called out, "Izzy." In the very last moment before I slipped under completely, I found myself wondering whether Cole really was as cold and heartless as his name sounded. I died on the second day of that winter snowfall. After that, Cole threw himself into his work, desperate to numb himself. In just two years, he molded one of his distant relatives into a fully capable company CEO who could stand on his own. Every year, on the anniversary of my death, he would avoid everyone and go to my grave alone to talk to me. In the third winter, he came as usual and sat in front of my tombstone. He started to speak.

I snapped, pushing past her to open the window wider. “Asphyxia. That's the medical term that covers the entire…concept of suffocation. Just so you know, you know. But it's not like I was trying to kill you, or me. We're too young, and I'm incapable of murder, you know that. I've only ever killed geckos since I was born…” She rambled, trailing off when she saw my death stare. I admit, I was more pissed at the fact that her charred whatever woke me up from my dream. I wished I heard everything my father had to say, but unfortunately, I got woken up abruptly.