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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“Because everyone should be able to live a little, even for a few hours.”

From Blood and Ash We Shall Rise.

“With my sword and with my life,” Hawke replied, coming to stand at my shoulder.

Hawke’s gaze flicked over my lower jaw, lingering on the corner of my mouth, where I knew the skin was inflamed. “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.”

How could anyone mortal be unmoved by the mother’s pleas, her cries, and her husband’s desolate hopelessness? But I already knew the answer to that. The Ascended were no longer mortal.

Hawke placed a hand on the hilt of his broadsword and bowed slightly, his gaze never once leaving mine. “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.”

There wasn’t a lot that I knew about life, but I knew that, sometimes, there was no reason. A person, whether Ascended or not, was who they were with no explanation.

“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.”

“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!” Over and over, he screamed the words, as even the guards dragged him through the crowd.

“Is it worth losing your position over and being ostracized for?” He glared down at me. “If you even have to ask that question, then you don’t know me at all.”

“Saw us? Holding hands? Dear gods, the scandal.”

“Only the bad can be influenced, Princess.”

“I did. And I’ll say it again. I don’t care what you are.” Hawke’s hand slid off my back. A moment later, I felt his palm flatten against my cheek with unerring accuracy. “I care about who you are.”

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

What I wanted was to live. What I wanted was him.

And it was strange to know myself and be so certain when I’d spent so long not knowing myself—never really being allowed to discover who I was, what I might like or dislike, what I’d want or need. But I knew now. I had known the moment I asked him to stay. I knew what the consequences could be. I knew what I was, and what was expected of me, and I knew I could no longer be that. It wasn’t what I wanted in life. It had never been my choice. But this…this I wanted. Hawke was who I wanted. This was my choice.

Hawke wasn’t the catalyst. He was the reward.

It didn’t matter if the gods found me unworthy because I was worthy of this—of laughter and excitement, of happiness and anticipation, of safety and acceptance, of pleasure and experience, of everything Hawke made me feel.

“I don’t want you to be good.” Without even realizing it, I had lifted my other hand, fisting the front of his shirt. “I want you.”

Hawke. That wasn’t even his name. It was Casteel. And he had an agenda. All of our conversations, every time he had kissed me, touched me, and told me I was brave and strong, that I intrigued him and was like no one he’d ever met. He did those things not just under a false persona but also under a false name, to gain my trust. To make me lower my guard around him, all so I would walk out of Masadonia with him willingly and right into a pit of vipers who either wanted to use me because I was the Maiden, the Chosen—the Queen’s favorite—or wanted me dead for the very same reasons.

But he also took my heart. And made me fall in love with the Dark One.

Because the longer he kept me here with him, the harder it would be for me to remember the truth. The more I would desperately want to believe that I was special to him because I just wanted to be special to someone. Anyone. To be something other than a pawn. The longer I was with him, the more likely I would be to forget about all that blood that was on his hands.

I didn’t know. All I did know was that I was starved for him, right or wrong, I wanted him.