Wandering Noble Ashes Novels & Stories

“No. But I should have. Guys like you usually bring them with you.” I smirked. “Guys like me?” “Leather, tattoos… gunshot wound,” he said dryly. “You scream of trouble.” He wasn’t wrong. “And you don't want any of that?” “Name’s Ash,” I muttered when he didn't reply and finally regretted it. Where were we? Tenth grade? I was watching him move around the small room tending to my wounds with precision. “Noah.” He finally said, not looking up. “Thanks, Noah.”

Something deliberate. I leaned forward. “And the general?” The soldier trembled. “Ashes , Your Majesty.” A hush swept the hall. Burned wasn’t unusual. But he didn’t stop there. “And his ashes… were taken.” The hall’s silence transformed into shock. Even I felt my body go still. Ashes taken? Wolves do not touch vampire ashes. They hate us, yes. They kill us when they can—yes. But they leave the ashes untouched. Because they know what vampire ashes mean. They only move ashes when they're trying to cover up the scene for the pathetic humans.

The woman who never cried, no matter how much blood or sweat she shed, finally had red eyes. Jennifer stood there for a long time before she managed to force out a complete sentence. "Where… where is Cyrus buried? I want to see him one last time." I saw the regret in Jennifer's eyes and turned my face away. "He's not buried anywhere. I had him cremated." Pain twisted across her face. Grief overflowed in her eyes. "Why? Why didn't you bury him properly?" she demanded. "Everyone says the dead should return to the earth. You didn't even leave him a whole body. How can he rest like that?"

"Alex must never suspect anything. Not a single doubt can enter his mind. If he does, everything burns — including whatever fragile love you've managed to cultivate in this house of ashes." With those ominous parting words, the mysterious figure melted silently into the surrounding darkness, leaving Eve completely alone in the charred remnants of the east wing. She stood there motionless for several long moments, her mind swirling with a torrent of new threats, fresh possibilities, and overwhelming emotions. The night remained deep and unforgiving around her, the conversation replaying endlessly in her thoughts as she clutched the envelope tightly. She had bought precious time, but the dange

Ten years hadn’t dulled his instincts. “You didn’t sleep,” he said, voice low. Aria shook her head. “The deep is calling. Not Maris. Something older.” Before he could answer, the door slammed open. Ash stood there, breathing hard, holding a torn scout report. Mud on her boots, dirt under her nails. She hadn’t even changed after patrol. “Northern border,” Ash said without preamble. “The broken oak isn’t the only tree with names anymore. We’ve got three more glowing. All in the Wastes.”

Nixie got a lot out of this. “The worst part is that she’s still out there,” I mutter, my gaze drifting to the black bathroom tiles. “That woman must have someone helping her or she couldn’t hide for so long.” Rena bites her lip. “There’s a lot I learned about my family too and it's quite messy. The Ashwalkers are rogues that are created out of the powers of the Gem Goddess. And my dad’s brother, Regef, had taken a part of it with himself when he was banished from the pack.” She reveals and her words leave me in shock.

I used my air magic, so I lift the ash's off the ground and then I used earth to make a whole in the ground and place the ash's in the hole and cover it back up. Then we all go for some rest. In the morning the rain is coming down, so fast that you can hardly see through it. I look at Arizer and he is carving something and when I have a look I am gobsmacked. It is the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a mixture of symbols for witches, wolves, elves and vampires all blended with swirls and flowers. It says in the middle "Here lies the bravest men and women I will ever meet. They deserve to rest in peace. Asher Evans, sacrificed himself for the good of the world."

Wiser. “You’re not done,” she said. “You’ve only ever been the first sentence.” 4. The Arrival of the Ash-Rider Three days later, he came. Riding a black stag whose antlers were made of bone-fire, he crossed the outer ridge without being seen only felt. The Grove shivered. And the sky turned gray. He dismounted at the Spiral Garden and removed his hood. His eyes were silver-flecked. His hair streaked with ash. A single spiral burned across his neck, darker than any I had seen.