Fear the Flames (Fear the Flames, #1)

by Olivia Rose Darling

There once was a princess born on a crisp winter night with enough fire in her soul to rival the frost that covered the earth.

Dragons had not been seen in Ravaryn since the gods walked among mortals, or so the legends say.

The princess with hair nearly as dark as the night and eyes like two embers reflecting the fire

But is it not the most unsuspecting people who do the most extraordinary things?

The seer claimed that the gods came to her in a dream and informed her that the dragon eggs that had been passed down through generations belonged to the princess.

The eggs were so old, they were considered fossils, but they began rumbling on the night of the princess’s birth.

The seer proclaimed that the princess’s soul was forged from the fire of the gods, creating a link to the five dragons that could not be broken by any mortal or god, and that she would be either the ruination or the glory of her kingdom.

Shackles were locked around the princess’s wrists, and the dragons were plucked from the air and shoved into cages when they refused to leave her side.

Those who had treated her with kindness and deference became those who beat her for treason.

until she became their biggest regret.

She gathered all the pain that was dealt to her and forged herself into a weapon

Vengeance is a promise signed in blood, but the princess believed that the blood of the dragon flowed through her.

Rain and wind whip against my cheeks as I urge my horse to run faster into the dark forest with only moonlight and lightning to aid my vision.

Lantern light dances across Finnian’s freckle-dusted cheeks.

I’ve never been a fan of noisy places, but Finnian thrives in them.

Cayden Veles, Commander of Vareveth, is both the most feared and youngest warlord on the continent at only twenty-nine. He’s as rich as a greedy god paired with the morals of a demon. Many even refer to him as the demon commander, or demon of Ravaryn.

Vareveth soldiers are here…because they’re looking for me.

“Hear anything interesting, little shadow?”

“Do you often gasp at idle gossip?” he asks, coming to a stop a few feet in front of me. A shard of moonlight dances across one of his angular cheekbones as if it longs to reach out and touch him. A jagged white scar littered and framed with red stretches from the corner of his right eye, across his cheek, and ends close to the corner of his full lips.

He’s dressed like an assassin in a black leather chest guard, and a cloak, pants, and boots to match.

His staggering frame is clad with weapons. Several knives line his legs, a short sword and axe are strapped to his waist, and a broadsword rests across his back.

I assess his size, still twirling my knife…he’s tall enough to make me tilt my chin up, but I’ve taken down monsters.

I slam my fist into his jaw and ignore the throbbing sensation in my knuckles that follows. He hardly even flinches and grips my wrist. I shove my leg forward to knee him between his legs, but he senses my move and shifts away from the hit.

“Knives, spying, and a sharp tongue. You’re playing a dangerous game because I’m intrigued.”

I grab another knife from my thigh, hold it to his throat.

“I can’t complain.”

netherwraith.

It’s a giant beast covered in thick white fur with blood-red eyes. As the netherwraith grows, so do two curved horns on top of its head, and they’re sharp enough to pierce you if it decides to charge. A forked tongue hangs from its mouth, dripping in a frothy venom. It’s a beast of nightmares, as are all the beasts that prowl the Sweven, Terrwyn, and Seren Mountains.

“There isn’t a single place in this world where you can hide from me, you understand?”

“If you run, I’ll find you,”

Chills snake up my spine, but it’s not from the rain this time. I don’t turn around, but I swear I can feel the heat of his gaze branding my back through the attic window.

I was face-to-face with the Commander of Vareveth. I held a knife to his throat.

The plush chair beside my hearth is well loved from all the nights I’ve spent reading till the sun came up, letting the words provide an escape route from my mind.

coffee

Cayden Veles.

Quick hands pin my wrists behind me as I kick my assailant in the shin.

“Relax, little shadow. It’s me.”

“Oh, lo...

“That makes being tied up in a dark forest all the...

“You held a knife to my neck before r...

“Consider this a precautionar...

I wonder if the continent believes him to be a demon because his alluring beauty is otherworldly.

He’s a harsh kind of handsome, something akin to jagged snow-covered mountain peaks, or an unruly ocean crashing against dark sand beaches.

tousled chocolate waves spill onto his forehead and kiss th...

scar on his angular cheek that stands out against his dee...

piercing emer...

“Because I don’t want you running away or pulling a knife on me midconversation, princess.”

“Don’t give me a reason to, demon.”

They were hatchlings, but a dragon’s loyalty isn’t swayed by rank or title.

Hope is a dangerous emotion. It renders us immune to logic.