Wandering Noble Ashes Novels & Stories

We must plan well so that Samhain does not still leave us the same,“ the other wheezed in a hushed tone" "Those lycans will have us to answer to, soon...really soon” And with a cracking sound, they both disappeared into thin air.

You seem like someone who has spent too much time chasing their destiny. A tiny smile tightened her lips, but she remained silent. Now their issues were more serious. The sharp peaks of the Ashen Spires towered in the distance as she looked beyond the horizon. As though sensing her uncertainty, the shard pulsed softly in her backpack. As the sun began to set, the sky turned scarlet and amber, and they paused to rest. Zara discovered a safe haven behind a crooked tree, its twisted branches extending like skeletal fingers into the darker sky.

i say turning and heading for my office. Shoving the doors to my study open i walk in and see my beta lounging in the chair in front of my desk. A solider sitting in the chair next to him. Both of them jumping up and bowing " Alpha Damien i have urgent news from Genral warren". I stop short at his words"what everr it is, it better be good alex" I grumble taking my seat behind my desk grab my quill and ink and start writing. He steps forward a smile wide on his face "the General has reported back" his words snap my attention away from my ink. " They found the rouge out post just outside a village in Mongoria it's two days ride due north" the solider says taking a step forward" but the rouges

His focus went back to what he held in his hands and that stirred up some questions in my head that I had to ask. He spoke calmly and that reduced the tension in the room. “Are you some type of a genie?” “It’s not a kettle, it's an urn.” “Do you live there?” “I just said I'm a wolf shifter, young girl?” He always has this 5-7 seconds of uncomfortable pause before he speaks, like he tries to formulate words in his head. “My ashes were kept there.” His throat worked Your ash? Please, Emmett, make everything you're saying make sense and be more realistic

Rain pattered soft on Sienna’s hood, a steady drip that matched the thud of her boots on the muddy path. Lila led the way—small, hunched, her coat too big, her steps shaky like she’d collapse any second—and Sienna followed, her jaw tight, the vial a cold lump in her pocket. Roman trailed a few paces back, silent, his presence a weight she couldn’t shake—his heat, his kiss, still burning on her lips, a mistake she couldn’t unmake. Her chest ached, raw and tangled, and she hated it—hated him for making her feel it, hated herself for letting him in even that much.

Magic that carries names older than language. She walks into the courtyard of Emberhold. And as she passes, the ash lifts in spirals. It does not settle. It curls. And across the stone, in lines of scorched sigil, a word appears. Not spoken. Formed. One word. Ashwake.

“They’re summoning you. To stand before the Council in the Court of Ashes.” Her stomach dropped. “If I don’t go?” “They’ll come for you.” He looked at her. “And if they do, it’ll be war.” The Court of Ashes was hidden in the mountains, guarded by ancient wolves who hadn’t shifted in years. Aria rode behind Kael on a black stallion. Warriors surrounded them in a silent procession. The journey took three days. Each night, Kael refused to leave her side. They sat under the stars by firelight, his hand wrapped around hers. “I shouldn’t be letting you go,” he whispered on the second night. “But if I fight for you, they’ll say you’re weak.”

“It doesn’t stay. It comes and disappears.” Cassian pretended to look disappointed. He wore his shirt back on and used his fingers to adjust his hair. “You should go to sleep,” he said. “You should return to your dorm too,” Julianne said to him. Cassian walked to the window and before he jumped out, he turned and said to her, “Goodnight Ash.” “Good…night.” Julianne said those words in her head. She watched him disappear in the night and she moved to the window, looking around to see where he had gone, but there was no sign of him. She released a sigh and pushed her head back in before shutting the window.

"I know. I am learning to feel it." That is enough. That is everything. --- The winter came, and the garden was warm. The gold flowers glowed through the snow, their light steady and sure. The witnesses gathered around the stone bench for lessons, their faces lit by the blooms. Morwen taught the history, Seren told the stories, Iriel and Kaelen taught the anchor ability. Winter kept the graves. A new student arrived in the depths of winter. He was young, perhaps ten, with dark hair and dark eyes and a scar on his cheek. His name was Ash, and he had traveled from the burned lands in the west, where the gold flowers had grown through the ashes of a forest fire.

I was not sure why, even though they had confirmed me a witch, I felt so wrong. The rain started to pour, I watched my brother struggle for breath but he stretched forth his hands trying to reach for me. Slowly, I forced my legs to walk towards him and once I had, I crouched before him– “Lyra, wicked people –” and he shut his lips, eyes opened but he had stopped breathing. Tears rolled down my cheek, and I tried to force the same chants I had done with the cat some weeks back. “Virellion Thasra - Awaken from slumber, little one and breathe again. Come closer to the binding light and feel the life in front of you. Don't fade away.” I cried.