From Blood and Ash (Blood and Ash, #1)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

As the Maiden, the Chosen, a veil usually covered my face and hair at all times, all except for my lips and jaw.

“I know a face, whether it’s half-hidden or not, and yours is one I haven’t seen here before. This is your first time.” Truly, I had no idea how to respond to that. “And it’s the Red Pearl’s first time also.” She leaned in, her voice lowering. “As we’ve never had the Maiden walk through the doors.”

The woman may be a Descenter, or at the very least, she wasn’t a fan of the Ascended. But she might also be a Seer. I didn’t think there were any of them left.

My interest could simply be because Hawke was…well, he was beautiful.

“Death is like an old friend who pays a visit, sometimes when it’s least expected and other times when you’re waiting for her. It’s neither the first nor the last time she’ll pay a visit, but that doesn’t make any death less harsh or unforgiving.”

My gaze lifted to the door, and I closed my eyes, unsure if I was disappointed or relieved by the interruption. Truthfully, it was a mixture of both, because I’d lied to Hawke. I wouldn’t be here when he returned.

Tawny was one of the few people who could make me laugh over the silliest things. Actually, she was one of the few people who were even allowed to speak to me. She was the closest thing I had to a friend, and I cared for her deeply.

What we’d done…it belonged to just me. It had to stay that way.

“They say you’re the child of the gods.”

He would become one of them. A Craven. Driven by an insatiable hunger for blood, he would slaughter everyone in sight. And if anyone were to survive his attack, they would eventually become just like him. Well, not everyone. I hadn’t.

And I was afraid of dying, but my wariness of the Ascension was more than that. It wasn’t my choice. I had been born into this, in the same way that all the second sons and daughters were. Even though none of them seemed to dread their future, it wasn’t their choice either.

I wasn’t sure what was worse—being betrayed or blindsided. Actually, I did know. Being betrayed would be worse.

But with truth came power. And I was never one to hide from the truth.

From Blood and Ash We Shall Rise.

“The Dark One has come for you, Penellaphe.”

The Dark One would not take me. That was a vow I would kill for and die to uphold.

“You were hurt.” It wasn’t a question but a statement uttered in a hard-as-granite tone. “You can be assured that will never happen again.”

“With my sword and with my life, I vow to keep you safe, Penellaphe,” he spoke, voice deep and smooth, reminding me of rich, decadent chocolate. “From this moment until the last moment, I am yours.”

He’d said my name when he took his vow as my guard. Not what I was but who I was, and that was… That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.

Your hormones must be clouding your rational thought.” “My hormones are always clouding my rational thought, thank you very much.”

“You know what I think?” “I’m half afraid to hear it.” Her brown eyes glimmered. “Things are about to get so much more exciting around here.”

“You must be the goddess Bele or Lailah given mortal form,” a deep voice said from behind me. Sucking in a sharp breath, I spun around on my knee, the cape and gown whirling around my legs. My arrow locked and ready, I aimed at— Hawke. Oh, gods…

“You are…” His stare was intense and unblinking as he sheathed his sword at his side. “You’re absolutely magnificent. Beautiful.”

“You’re an absolutely stunning, murderous little creature.” Pausing, he glanced down. “Nice weapon. Bloodstone and wolven bone. Very interesting…” His gaze flicked up. “Princess.”

“But if you let go of the dagger, there’s a whole lot of me I’ll let your hands get close to.”

“You’re so incredibly violent.” He paused. “I think I like it.”

“Do you really think I have no idea who you are?” Every muscle in my body tensed as my mouth dried. “You have nothing to say to that?” He paused, and his voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “Penellaphe?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” “What is?” His gaze met mine again, and I felt a hitch in my chest. I couldn’t look away. I felt…ensnared. “How it feels like I’ve known you longer. You feel that, too.”

If I’m going down—” “You’ll go down fighting,” he finished for me. I nodded.

“Fear and bravery are often one and the same. It either makes you a warrior or a coward. The only difference is the person it resides inside.”

“Since I too have helped those who are cursed die with dignity. I did so in the capital and do so here, as well.”

“The next time you go out, wear better shoes and thicker clothing. Those slippers are likely to be the death of you, and that dress…the death of me.”

“From blood and ash,” he yelled, even as the guard gripped the back of his head. “We will rise! From blood and ash, we will rise!”

With it, I remembered what I was, and the importance of that. Without it, well, it was easy to want…to simply want.

I didn’t move. I didn’t remove the veil. Not for a long time. Not until I no longer wanted.

“You think it would be safe?” “Between you and me, I would think so.”

And I wanted this—wanted him.

He was wounded when he was called off. I hope he died.” “You are so violent,” Hawke all but purred. “You keep saying that, but I’m really not.” Hawke laughed again, the sound deep and real. “You really aren’t all that self-aware.”

“You’re such a bad influence,” I murmured as I placed my hand in his. Hawke curled his fingers around mine. The weight and warmth of his hand was a pleasant shock. “Only the bad can be influenced, Princess.”

“Actually, anyone could be under there right now, and we wouldn’t know.” “No one is under there.” My brows lifted above the mask. “How can you be sure?” “I just am. Come on.”

“It doesn’t matter if I want—” “And you do want.” His whisper danced over my cheek. “What you want is me.” My breath caught. “That doesn’t matter.” “What you want should always matter.”

“Gods,” he breathed, and one hand returned to my cheek. “You don’t have to ask me twice, Princess, and you never have to beg.”

The space where Hawke had stood was empty.

“Everything has been taken from me—my free will, my choice, my future—and

It was the Duke. Even from where I stood, I knew what had been shoved into his chest—through his heart. I would recognize it anywhere. It was the cane he’d lashed me with.

Fury was pure power, and not even the gods could escape it, let alone an Ascended.

Some truths do nothing but destroy and decay what they do not obliterate. Truths do not always set one free. Only a fool who has spent their entire life being fed lies believes that.”

But I wouldn’t pray. The gods had never answered my prayers before.

It was so weird how he sometimes talked as if he’d lived dozens of years longer than I was sure he had. I knew that, for some, a year could feel like a lifetime.

and those strangely sharp teeth of his.