A Kiss of Ashen Twilight: Ashen Twilight Series, #1

I

Light and Shadow

Chapter 1

ARIYA JOLTED AWAKE with a sharp gasp. Her heart pounded so loud she was certain the entire palace could hear it. She tried to calm herself, but the images of the dream lingered in her mind, both vivid and terrifying. Blood stained the ground, darkening the once bright green blades of grass to a deep shade of red. Swords clashed, filling the air with the sharp ring of metal. The ear-piercing screams of battle followed soon after. The sky darkened almost completely, with only distant stars piercing through.

On the grounds below, severed heads sat impaled upon stakes. The soldiers wore plaids draped over their armor. Some knelt to drink blood from the fallen while others raised their weapons in victory.

This wasn’t just a dream. It felt more like a memory from a time long ago, though where or when, she wasn’t sure.

One man always stood out among the carnage, untouched and unscathed. His handsome, chiseled features were complemented by his long, wavy dark hair. His physique was impeccably sculpted, and the hard lines of muscle beneath his skin were evident.

This was the third dream in a row she’d had in the past two nights.

Ariya took a deep breath and tried to focus on the present. She was safe in her bed, in the palace. She looked around, taking in the smooth, white marble that glistened under the moonlight. Crystal windows offset the statues of Mawu-Lisa and her Aziza Fae. The wind rustled the gossamer blue curtains, but it brought no comfort to her this night.

Months had passed since the deaths of her sisters, and she felt their absence acutely.

Shya. Rhea.

Ariya longed for their comforting words and sisterly banter.

For months, rumors of another attack circulated. Ariya felt a sense of foreboding. Whenever her parents spoke in hushed tones, their conversation ceased as soon as she entered the room.

What were they hiding from her?

With a sigh, Ariya swung her legs over the bed and set her feet on the ground. The room was quiet, and the heat from outside seemed to seep through the walls.

Creak.

Ariya turned toward her door. Her heart raced.

Sliding her feet into her slippers, she exhaled softly. The velvety sensation was a comfort against her skin. She pushed off the bed and approached the door. Perhaps it was an Aziza guard on patrol, or maybe Cidra. As Ariya exhaled again, she opened her senses. Fragments of the dream intruded upon her thoughts.

She opened the door.

The hallway was shrouded in shadows, but it was empty.

A black shadow danced on the wall, mirroring the tree outside the window. Its branches and leaves cracked against the glass in reaction to the brush of the wild wind.

Why did this feel like a dream? Her mind grew hazy. She could almost see herself walking through the dark hall with her silky white nightdress glowing brightly against her bronze skin. The glimmer of the moonlight surrounded her in a soft blue haze.

No.

She shook her head. This was not a dream. She had to focus!

Triptychs depicting her family adorned the palace walls. Wide arched door frames led to rooms with dome-shaped ceilings, adding an air of elegance to the surroundings. As she walked down the hallway, the towering stone walls gave the space a sense of grandeur. Crimson velvet curtains draped the windows, and the soft rustling sound they made hinted at the open terrace and the breeze that flowed in.

The silence that filled the hall was almost tangible, broken only by the sharp crack of branches outside the windows. It was too silent for this time of night, and a chill ran through her as she realized something was wrong. Her gaze darted towards the terrace doors, which were ajar, their curtains swaying gently in the wind. They had been closed before, but now they were open. Had someone opened them recently? And why during a windstorm?

A sense of foreboding washed over her. Nan. Tɔ. She had to find her parents before it was too late! Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, urging her to escape while she still had the chance.

A loud screech came from below the stairs, followed by the slam of a door. Ariya turned and ran to her room, locking the door just as a sharp pain nearly crippled her. Something seemed to constrict her heart, making it hard to breathe. Memories of her father overwhelmed her as she fell to her knees, and his anguished cry echoed throughout the palace. Guards’ footsteps approached rapidly as shouts filled the night air. She had to do something!

The air grew thick with an oppressive darkness, obscuring her vision. Ariya inhaled softly and then exhaled, hoping and praying that she didn’t choke before reaching the window. She bolted forward and dove over the terrace rails as her wings came to life, softening her landing.

Keep going, Ariya! To the mortal realm, now! her parents’ voices urged her on. They had always warned her about the dangers of the mortal realm, but she had no other option. That creature, the one her mother had warned her about, was back. Her duty as an Aziza Fae was clear: she had to escape.

With every ounce of strength, she sprinted towards the forest’s edge, comforted by the silent night around her. Seconds later, a deafening explosion sounded behind her. Glancing back, she saw the palace crumble, its once radiant structure now reduced to rubble. Fear and adrenaline propelled her forward.

A shadowy figure danced around the burning palace, and within its grasp, the forms of her parents seemed to fade. Her breath caught as she truly saw the creature for the first time: an ethereal presence, reminiscent of wind but bearing a sense of ancient malevolence. It felt strangely familiar, yet she couldn’t quite identify why.

My lady! Her maiden guard, Cidra, appeared behind her. Ariya almost didn’t hear her over the cacophony of elemental clashes, the haunting howls of the shadowy creature, and the desperate cries of the Aziza Fae guards. You must escape before it’s too late.

My parents, Ariya protested, turning back to the scene of destruction.

"Escape now. We’ll distract the creature. It seeks you." Cidra’s grip tightened as she implored Ariya to flee. Go now!

Ariya hesitated, scanning the chaotic surroundings of the palace. The booming noises of destruction reverberated across the sprawling fields as the ground rumbled beneath her feet.

With a last look at the fray, Ariya sprinted across the verdant lawn with her thick curls whipping wildly behind her. A deafening roar echoed in the air, and she turned to glance back.

Cidra stood firm, leading a fierce band of Aziza Amazon guards into the battle. The air swirled and churned around the creature as it blocked and deflected their powers. Ariya saw them fall, one by one, their bodies drained of their life-force. She shuddered at the thought, wondering why the creature targeted them. Was it after their powers, or did it relish in their agony?

She shook her head, tearing her gaze away from the grim scene. It was up to her to save her people. Despite her reluctance to leave, she forced herself to run.

The ground beneath her feet became rocky and uneven as she sprinted. Her breaths echoed in her ears as ragged gasps. She pushed herself harder, refusing to let the haunting images of death overtake her.

Mawu-Lisa, grant my people a peaceful journey...

From this world into the next.

JACE ARCHANE HELD ONTO the pillow beneath the young woman, feeling the intense sensation build within him. He braced himself, ready to give in to the pleasure that threatened to overtake him. The girl beneath him moaned and writhed, lost in the throes of passion. Jace reveled in the feel of her body, the softness of her skin, the way she clung to him with desperate need of his body.

As he moved within her, his teeth grazed her neck, preparing to drink in the life that flowed within her. He was drawn to the essence within her.

He felt her desire, echoing his own, mirrored in her gaze. She was beautiful, alive with need and passion. He wanted to drink until he was sated, to lose himself in the bliss of the moment.

But even as he indulged in the pleasure of the feed, Jace’s thoughts were elsewhere. His uncle Julian had called him earlier, demanding his presence at a meeting that evening. Jace knew missing the meeting would incite Julian’s anger, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The weight of being the future Patriarch of the House of Blood was heavy, and he wasn’t prepared, despite what lineage dictated. Still adjusting to his Regent role, he relished the freedom this era afforded his kind. The adoration of humans, reflected in their media, was intoxicating.

Refocusing, Jace remembered why he was here—to nourish himself... in more ways than one. He slammed into the girl beneath him one last time, his hips meeting hers with a fierce intensity. He groaned, a primal sound erupting from deep within him as he surrendered to the pleasure that consumed him.

And then he was aware of the silence.

Jace looked down at the girl beneath him, her once bright blue eyes now staring glassily into the darkness. He had waited too long, and now she was gone. Her thin, pale body was already growing cold. The blood on his sheets was a stark reminder of his actions. He closed her eyes gently, his heart heavy with guilt.

With a deep sigh, Jace reached for the phone and dialed a number he knew well. He had done this before, too many times to count. He needed someone to handle the situation, to make it go away.

Polidori here.

Hey, Angel. It’s Jace.

Well, well, well, your highness. What could I do for you, your grace?

Jace chuckled as his body descended from the high of the feed, even as it warmed from the blood he had taken. I’m far from high royalty – just an heir moonlighting as a foot soldier for Julian.

Not just any heir, handsome, she said. Julian would have your head if you forgot how vital you really are.

He doesn’t allow me enough moments to forget. That’s not why I called, though. I’ve got another accidental necro on my hands.

The feed again?

Jace glanced over his shoulder at the girl beside him. Apparently so.

Well... Angel sighed. Stay put, and I’ll be over in ten. Your problem will vanish in under an hour.

I can’t stay, Jace replied, pushing himself off the bed and heading towards the expansive, wall-length closet across the room. He skimmed his fingers over the array of pristine suits, trousers, and stylish shirts, all suspended from fancy gold hangers. Beneath the attire, the floor showcased a collection of high-end designer shoes aligned against the wall.

Emergency conference tonight with Julian, Jace explained. Okay, if I leave her near the door?

Angel scoffed, and although he couldn’t see her, he knew she was shaking her head. It’s fine if you’re willing to have curious neighbors poking about.

I’ll risk it.

Chapter 2

AFTER A BRIEF REST stop, Jace stepped out onto the sidewalk, awaiting Angel. The cold night air brushed against his equally cold skin; a sign of the ancient Scottish and Viking blood running through his veins. He thrived in the chill, finding solace in its embrace. It reminded him of his ancestral home, the Highland Mountains, from centuries past.

Jace loved the sounds of the surrounding city. Downtown Phoenix was the calmest and most low-key of all the places he had visited. Everyone stayed in their own worlds and paid no mind to strangers passing by, just how he liked it.

As summer approached, unpredictable weather played coy, sometimes chilly, other times gently warmed by the sun’s embrace. The city’s nightlife vibrated with energy from honking cars, radiant lights, and the daily rhythm of its inhabitants.

Drawing a deep breath, Jace tapped into his supernatural senses and deciphered the medley of thoughts and emotions as clearly as visible facial expressions. Despite feeling satiated from his recent feast, the distinct scent of blood still tantalized his senses. The oblivious humans laughed, chatted, and went about their lives. They were unaware of the ancient world lurking in the shadows for centuries.

Jace pulled his leather jacket tighter around him as he grew restless. Angel would be arriving soon, but he had little time to spare. He was sure Julian would be calling any moment now. The old man was probably bursting a vein waiting for his arrival.

Jace stifled a smile as he imagined Julian trying to calm himself despite his bulging eyes and stiffened ears saying otherwise. Sometimes, it was the little things that made life worthwhile. As these thoughts swirled in his mind, his chauffeur opened the door to the awaiting limousine, and Jace gracefully entered.

The Ashen Twilight House was located downtown, at the heart of the Phoenix art culture. A massive green lawn and large foliage obscured the structure, hiding it from the patrons who walked by. The ancient gothic European architecture was a stark contrast to the typical southwestern ranch-style homes in the area. Although it unnerved many of the town’s older residents, it was popular for the younger ones, especially in October.

Thankfully, the streets were quiet this evening. They arrived about half an hour later in front of the mansion, bathed in the soft glow of the strategically placed lights around the lawn. The limo smoothly rounded the circular driveway and came to a stop.

Stepping out, Jace’s gaze immediately landed on the three luxury vehicles parked out front. Uncle Julian’s black Lincoln town car, a symbol of his authority as Patriarch over the House of Blood, loomed like a shadow. Michael Hammond’s hunter-green 1956 Jaguar Roadster, representing the House of Lycans, looked as if it was ready to leap into action. And finally, Daoine Oberon’s sleek dark green Corvette embodied the House of Shifter Elves’ essence with its promise of speed and agility.

Julian planned to pass down the Lincoln to Jace when the time came. But as much as Jace admired the beauty of that car, he wasn’t ready to take the House of Blood’s throne or give up his cherished BMW Volga Roadster. Sooner or later, his uncle would have to understand that. His life belonged to him to do with as he pleased. He was a Nightwalker, not a politician.

Jace ran up the steps to the front doors and waited for the grand doors to reveal the entrance hall. As they swung open, he was met with a small cluster of people conversing in the foyer. The rich and intoxicating scent of the various bloodlines immediately struck Jace. He spotted Brenden, the tall, bald vampire in black sunglasses, serving as the head of security. How the man sustained a slight tan in his undead status was beyond Jace’s understanding, but the man wore it well. Plus, it helped him blend in a little more with the mortals.

Gael Almadovar spoke to Brenden in small gestures and a hushed voice. Jace smiled once he caught his best friend’s attention. Every time he walked these halls, Jace lost himself in the grandeur of the surroundings. The polished marble floors and walls embellished with detailed artwork exuded an air of luxury and power.

Gael took his office as Regent in the House of Shifter Elves seriously. On the outside, he was calm, rarely showing any sign of impatience. But Jace knew better; one wouldn’t guess he had been a fierce warrior leading troops beyond the steps of Alhambra and neighboring lands in the mid-fifteenth century. Gael’s warm, dark tawny complexion, mesmerizing green eyes, and the dimples on his cheeks combined with his groomed goatee and prominent Moorish features garnered him attention from all the ladies. The way he carried himself exuded power and confidence, and Jace couldn’t help but admire his friend.

Not at the Torch tonight, Gael? Jace asked. I thought we were meeting there with Rich.

We are. A hint of the Andalusian accent still lingered in his speech after all these centuries. I had to see Daoine beforehand, but he’s in some big meeting with the other Patriarchs. I’d proceed cautiously if I were you.

Jace scoffed. No surprise there. See you in a few.

Gael gave him a brief nod. See you.

The soft murmur of voices filtered from the East Wing of the hall. To any mortal, it would sound like a distant hum and barely recognizable as voices. Jace heard them, yet still, he still struggled to make out the words. He paused, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to focus on the distant chatter. The voices grew clearer, tinged with tension and nervous excitement. Jace listened closely, not wanting to miss a detail.

He usually avoided eavesdropping. But now, the stakes were personal. This time, the meeting concerned him and his future. Exhaling deeply, Jace ran his hand through his wavy, brown hair. Here we go, he murmured.

He opened the double doors, and the gaze of the three house patriarchs met his. Jace straightened his posture and held his head high.

Into the fire.

My dear Uncle. Jace held his arms out, smiling. I came as soon as you called.

Julian stood around six feet, looking every bit the handsome man in his late thirties. Baby blue eyes and a mane of wavy brown hair tied back in a low ponytail complemented his appearance. The designer suits he wore gave him the air of a businessman always on the brink of sealing a deal.  Jace could pass as his son, and since losing his father so long ago, he considered the old man his surrogate. The truth wasn’t too far off, considering their roles within the House of Blood. If anything were to happen to Julian, Jace would be next in line for the Patriarch—unless Julian chose to step down, which was as likely as Jace joining the priesthood.

The elder Nightwalker stepped out from behind his desk to join Michael and Daoine in the center of the room. He kept his gaze on Jace even as he placed his hands on his friends’ shoulders and spoke.

Gentleman, I believe this meeting is adjourned.

Jace smirked as he peered at each of the Patriarchs. Did I miss something?

Elder business. We were just wrapping up, Julian replied, his tone a bit too cheerful. Jace could sense the tension. He had always known how to anticipate his uncle’s moods, but today was different. He had to appear confident, in control, and unafraid. It was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Until next time, Julian, Michael’s gruff voice was deep, spreading throughout the room. His tall stature, stern gaze, and intimidating disposition would alert any mortal to the beast beneath the human facade. His blonde, shoulder-length, wavy hair and chiseled features combined with a muscular build made him look like he belonged in the wrestling ring. He looked formidable even without the wolf lurking beneath. He shot Jace a sly grin and nodded as he exited. Jace.

Daoine was a contrast. Tall and graceful, with an aura of mystery about him. His sharp features and high cheekbones gave him a regal air. Anyone near him would be captivated. His age remained a mystery. Ever since becoming a Shifter Elf, youth had been his constant companion.

Jace, Daoine said in a voice reminiscent of soft choir bells.

Gentleman. Jace paused, listening for their receding footsteps before slowly closing the heavy double doors. Turning, he greeted his uncle with a broad smile.

Uncle Julian, I can’t express how pleased—

In a blur, Julian’s hand whipped across Jace’s face like lightning, backhanding him so hard he nearly lost his balance. The sharp sound echoed through the silent room. Jace’s smile vanished, replaced by a grimace of pain and anger.

You insolent—! Julian’s once smooth voice was now coarse with rage. Taking a moment, he inhaled deeply before continuing. You show your elders respect, which means being punctual when summoned.

Jace straightened out his jacket, trying to regain his composure. His cheek still stung from the unexpected blow. The realization that Julian had treated him like a mere child left him both shocked and offended.

Minor detour on the way, Uncle, Jace muttered in a voice tight with pain.

Whatever held you up should’ve been postponed. And given your recent call to the Necro Cerberus, my timing was impeccable.

A smirk threatened to surface on Jace’s face. He figured Angel had informed Julian about their conversation. Either that or his phone was tapped by the blood brigade.

Priorities, Uncle, Jace stretched his jaw to ease the sting. He gently brushed his fingertips against the tender area.

Of which you have yet to recognize. You need to understand what’s at stake. I won’t allow the future leader of the House of Blood to jeopardize our lineage.

Jace sneered. Your faith in me is truly touching, Unc.

Don’t you dare turn this around on me, Jacinus! You waltz around here, acting like some eternal party boy with no concern for what’s important.

And what might that be? Jace countered.

Responsibility.

The significance of the word seemed to envelop Jace in the silence that followed. He tried to dismiss it with a scoff.

Right. He walked over to the large, cushiony brown leather couch and sunk into it. Is this why you called me here tonight, Unc?

Not entirely. Julian retrieved a lone manila folder from his desk. He presented a document to Jace, pointing it out for him to read.

Jace’s eyebrow raised as his gaze volleyed between the document and Julian. What’s this?

It’s an affidavit to renounce your birthright and inheritance. As the last Archane, our legacy lies in your hands. Sign this, and you can live free of all obligations.

Jace oscillated between the document and Julian’s intense gaze. He tried to study Julian’s expression, but his face was unreadable. Venturing into the mind of such an old Nightwalker was a risk Jace wasn’t willing to take. He valued his sanity too much.

So, by signing this, I can finally be free of all this? No more duties, no more expectations?

Jace stared at the legal document before him with its crisp white paper and black ink. The X on the signature line taunted him, daring him to make a decision that could change his life forever. Would signing it would truly make everything go away? Would he be free from all of his duties and expectations? Would he be able to live as he pleased?

Julian nodded once. Correct.

Jace hesitated. The weight of his decision felt heavy on his shoulders. He had dreamed of this moment since the war with Vlad Tepes, also known as the Impaler, ended. Back then, he hadn’t fully grasped the beauty of life as a Nightwalker. But now, he lived every day to its fullest. He had suffered too many losses and preferred to focus on important matters like women, seduction, and the hunt. Revelry was a dish best savored across the dithering days of immortality.

He knew signing his duties away should have been easy, but it wasn’t just the responsibilities he was letting go. The lavish lifestyle, access to the finer things in life, and the Archane name’s status would also disappear. It was a lot to give up.

What are you waiting for? Julian asked. Isn’t this what you always wanted?

Jace shifted uncomfortably. The question had floated around in his mind, but it unnerved him to hear it presented aloud. He wanted to be free of his responsibilities, but at what cost?

I—I just—

First time I’ve seen you at a loss for words, nephew. Julian smiled. Are you having second thoughts about your request?

Jace shrugged. So, what if I am?

It’s a difficult task to take on, I grant you that. Your father and I understood this. If you need help—

Hey, I don’t need any of your frickin’ charity! Jace interrupted.

Apparently, you do if you’re living on the Archane name and riches. Julian’s voice was calm, but his words cut deep.

Jace hated to admit that his uncle had a point there.

Look, Julian began. I don’t want to fight, and I didn’t ask you here to start one. We are family. Do not squander away this opportunity, Jace. You have inherited it by birthright. It’s a gift and an honor.

A gift. Right. Jace took a slow, deep breath to calm down. He needed to get out of here. Maybe he’d find solace in the cold pleasures of the night. Can I think about it first?

Of course. Julian slipped the paper back into the folder and closed it. Take as much time as you need, but just do it by next week. There’s much to discuss in the coming days, and I need to know whether you’re with us or not.

Naturally. Jace turned and headed for the door, eager to leave his uncle’s presence. I’ll be in touch.

Jacinus—

Jace froze as Julian called out his full first name. With his hand on the doorknob, he stopped and turned.

Don’t take too long now, Julian said. The gleam in his eye emphasized the warning.

Jace tried not to think of the worst that could happen if he didn’t heed Julian’s words.

Chapter 3

VAST EDIFICES DOMINATED the flat, barren landscape. The dull, cracked concrete surface beneath her feet offered no respite from the unforgiving terrain. In the distance, jagged mountains loomed against the blackened sky. Ariya felt disoriented, as though she had been transported to a foreign land. The warm, inviting twilight that bathed the Aziza realm had disappeared. Now replaced by a stark, foreboding landscape. She wondered what era this was.

As she scanned her surroundings for clues, she felt a growing unease. She knew the elemental creature was close behind. She needed to keep moving. Ariya pushed herself off the ground and strode purposefully down the long, deserted road ahead. A narrow alleyway came into view, flanked by towering structures that seemed to scrape the sky. Box-shaped vehicles, some small, others enormous, glided past each other soundlessly. Ariya marveled at their sleek design.

The street was eerily quiet except for the occasional hum of an engine. Ariya tried to make sense of her surroundings, hoping to glean some insight into where she was. The architecture and vehicles suggested that this was the twenty-first century, but where exactly? As she pondered this, the moon continued its ascendence higher in the