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.”

Empires bow at her feet, and one stands tall in royal black, crowning her own head with eyes as icy as obsidian. Another leaves two men in her wake, with neither the Noble nor the Masked Man in pursuit. She has erect shoulders. She has dead eyes. Then, behind her— A blade. A shout. In a another universe, she whips around to see the Masked Man standing over the Noble's lifeless body, covered in blood. Ash falls from the sky. He doesn't look at her, but his hands are shaking. He glances at another woman. A fading one already.

Liora’s breath caught, For one second, the world held her between moments, between words, And then it shattered, Ashen fell like an unfinished thought, Not graceful, Not tragic, Just broken. She hit the ground hard, her small frame cracking the earth beneath her. The crown, the Hollow Crown, tumbled from her head, rolling once, then stopping at Liora’s feet. Liora didn’t move. Couldn’t, Because the air around Ashen was… undoing, Grass unraveled into linework. Stones became outlines. The soil beneath her burned white-hot, like the world wasn’t erasing her, it was rejecting her. The girl convulsed, breath stuttering, Her ink-blood seeped from the wound and spilled into glyphs on the dirt. Word