An Heir Comes to Rise (An Heir Comes to Rise, #1)

by C.C. Peñaranda

Everyone has skeletons in the closet, and those who claimed otherwise were usually the ones with the most to hide.

Character descriptions

She always did have a horrible sense of other people’s emotions, and it was a curse she’d learned to live with.

I smell friends to lovers

“Goodbye, Reuben.”

Sometimes, she wished it could be more with Jakon.

“You should be careful whose mind you go walking into at night. You might not make it out so easily next time,”

“Are you avoiding me, Faythe?”

“You really have no idea what you are, do you?”

She gasped, hands going over her mouth, when she beheld what her friend carried in both outstretched palms. A sword!

“I’m not afraid; I’m terrified!” she cried in anguish, pushing off the faceless monster’s blade.

tell everyone she left, but I know… I know it was her scream that night. Whatever she warned me about in the forest came for her, and I lured her right to it. She screamed…and I ran.”

“There is so much you are yet to discover, Heir of Marvellas. So much you are destined for.”

Nik disarmed her, sending Lumarias flying from her grip, and had his blade to her throat in two maneuvers.

Nik stormed up to her, scanning her body for signs of physical injury. “Who hurt you?” he snarled, catching her jaw, which still ached.

His tone wasn’t scolding; it was laced with concern.

She looked at him wide-eyed. “You’re going inside my head?” He gave her a devious smile. “What dirty little secrets do you have to hide? You look so horrified, Faythe.”

“I think I already have.”

Finally, she felt him as Nik’s warm hands registered, encasing one of her own.

“You won’t ever be next. Not if I have something to say about it,”

it made his fists curl in anger at his brutal display of dominance over Faythe. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it did, but imagining his cruel hand curled around her jaw made him want to tear the whole limb from the captain.

“No, thanks. I quite like my balls and don’t feel like losing them tonight.”

“What a show indeed, ladies. We could have charged good coin in an arena to have people watch.” He smirked suggestively. “Even more so if you were naked.”

His grin only widened. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Faythe, but if you long for release, you need only ask.” His eyes danced with amusement.

“You’re a gods-damned miracle, Faythe.”

“So you’re going to be my teacher?” He nodded. “In mind skills, sword skills, and…other skills, if you find yourself lacking,” he added suggestively.

“I’ve never been with a human before. I’d be curious to see if your kind is as…fragile as you look.” He grinned deviously.

Instead, she shuffled down the rocks until she was close enough to touch and didn’t wait to see if he would retreat. She reached a hand over and placed it on top of his. To her surprise, Nik twisted his wrist and reached his other arm over to encase her small hand between his calloused palms.

When she locked eyes with herself at the end of the song, her heart skipped. But was that Nik’s heart she was feeling?

Beautiful.

“Just in case not enough people told you how wonderful you looked that night,”

She didn’t deserve to be loved. She would only end up disappointing everyone in the end.

She released a sob, and Marlowe stroked her hair without saying anything. She only held her tight and let Faythe cry it out.

She would not cower. Never again.

Gold-Eyed Shadow?”

“Now who’s going to have to fend off lascivious females…and males, perhaps?”

She chuckled, her lips pulling up in a deviant grin. He wasn’t too far from the truth.

The Riscillius is needed to open each gate,

The heir of souls will rise again, Their fate lies in her palms. With rings of gold and will of mind, She’ll save the lives of men.

She allowed herself all of a few seconds to let the dizziness pass and her vision to clear before she looked up in time to see a familiar dark-haired fae take out the final man.

Then she beheld the dagger protruding from his abdomen, and the world stopped.

“You are not going to die tonight, Jakon Kilnight. Do you hear me?”

“Faythe.” A woman’s voice, like an echo from a shadow, sounded around her. She turned and beheld the mighty white stag at her side.

“If you do not, your soul will belong to my woods for all eternity.”

“I shall see you again soon, Heir of Marvellas.”

All this time, he had been protecting her, and she hadn’t realized.

“Screw the damn consequences.” She pushed up on her toes, hands going to the back of his neck. Then his mouth met hers, and the stars awoke, chasing away the darkness that had started to engulf her.

“The blacksmith kindly offered the stone with no charge. Called it The Looking Glass—some

“It’s a lens.” When Faythe’s eyes landed on a familiar blonde head, all she could do was gawk in absolute shock at the sight of Marlowe at the bottom of the steps.

“My name is Aurialis. Your people call me the Spirit of Life and Goddess of the Sun,”