A Throne From the Ashes (An Heir Comes to Rise, #3)

by C.C. Peñaranda

“We must keep having faith, Lili,”

“Keep having…Faythe.”

She relished in the silent satisfaction she had made herself into one of the most powerful dark fae without a performance enhancer.

The scandalous gown she’d materialized herself in had also disappeared, and she stood in black leathers with silver accents matching the tone of her blood. The embellishments singled her out as the delegated leader of the Silverfairs, a position she’d rightfully won through strength and conquer in the Blood Trials over a century ago. Nothing was given among her kind; everything was earned.

Zaiana looked to the dead man, a gruesome sight for anyone to find with the gaping cavity in his chest.

it was their foolish love that would lose them the war to come.

“Human or fae, high-born or commoner, none of it matters in the grave. There is a far bigger threat at large—one that doesn’t care for your immortality or wealth. Don’t make an enemy out of those on our side for the shape of their ears when there may come a day when the one you believe to be weak may just be the one to save your life.”

I may have come from nothing, but I will rise to everything. The greatest triumph will be having you there to bear witness as I do.”

“Blood is the key to chase away foe.”

Faythe’s desire to submit was dominated by her need to rise; to prove him wrong.

The Silverfairs were Born dark fae; the Blackfairs were Transitioned, once ordinary fae turned into their dark sister species. It gave them an advantage in numbers, but they lacked discipline and restraint.

“Acelin and Kellias are leading in the pit. I believe Drya and Selain are doing what they do best and keeping eyes in the shadows,” Tynan informed her. It was exactly where she expected each of them to be, much to her pleasure. The five had been hand-picked by Zaiana to form her inner circle of the highest-ranking and strongest Silverfairs.

One day, she would be free, and that day, she would unleash her centuries’ worth of revenge on all those who wronged her.

“She was a bright flame in this kingdom. Headstrong, fierce, loyal. Utterly human, but that didn’t matter,” Kyleer said solemnly. “She may have fled to High Farrow to protect you, but I believe even she knew an ember of the Phoenix was always destined to return to us.” Kyleer looked to her with a gleam of pride and wonder.

Reylan hadn’t overpowered her; he’d matched her rank. More than that—he’d asserted his own power of authority as beneath hers.

Rise or yield.

Faythe wasn’t born with a crown; she wasn’t raised on a diet of politics and courtship. Every monarch before her had been taught from birth to know their path, crafted and molded by their ancestors past. But perhaps it was time to break that mold and find out what could become of a ruler shaped entirely of her own clay. Of heart, not expectation.

Malin Ashfyre’s hateful words would lose him the thing he valued most as every spiteful insult and belittling remark was a small offering of tinder to fuel her fire. Only when it was too late would he realize he’d inspired his own downfall.

But Reylan never backed down when he thought his challenge was called for. It was something Faythe greatly admired about him, and it also made him a commanding pain in her ass.

“I thought it might come in useful when you take back your kingdom.” Tauria met Marlowe’s ocean-blue eyes and was overcome with emotion. Not if she would take back her kingdom, but when.

“You don’t need to thank us,” Jakon replied. “You may wear the crown for us all, but no kingdom was ever run by one person alone.”

“Petty insults aren’t worth putting your life at risk. Words can only cut if you listen. They can only scar if you believe.”

Faythe’s heart pierced where she sat, eyes burning with the passion Reylan poured over the keys in front of them. Every now and then his arm would graze hers, sending a pulse of electricity through her that heightened with the song weaving through her soul. He took them out of that room, out of their world, and placed them both in a universe of endless magick and wonder. A place where no evil could touch them. Her skin prickled in the most delightful way, inspiring shivers of warmth that embraced her heart. Protected it. His fingers moved gracefully, like tranquil waves against the thrash of a storm.

“Nothing could make me turn away from you, Reylan.”

“You can stop trying to convince me you’re the villain. We all have demons and hard choices to shoulder. Sometimes, it takes someone else to see them to realize they don’t define us.”

“Maybe it makes me selfish, but I can’t. I can’t stay away from you. I came back sooner than I usually would from Fenher because while I fear to no end that I might be incapable of protecting you, I can’t stand the thought of your safety being in the hands of anyone else.”

“I never thought I’d come across someone like you, Faythe.” In his eyes was conflict. He looked over her face as though memorizing every inch or trying to figure out a puzzle. She caught his gaze lingering on her lips a second longer. “You see everything I am and know everything I’ve done, and yet you’re still here.”

“You saw me and you heard me from the first day we met. Nothing about your past changes what I see in you, Reylan. I’m not going anywhere.”

With her ear to his chest, she felt the hard beat of his heart—a melody she wanted to memorize every note of. Faythe focused on it and let it ease the melancholic drum of her own.

With Reylan here, her mind relented, just enough for her to remember there was a light in the darkness that embraced her. There was a light in him.

Reylan’s voice… It felt like home.

He watched her breathing, transfixed by the rise and fall of her chest. As though it might still. As though the beat of her heart were tied to his own. Yet he didn’t fear it. Not in the slightest.

Imagine each of them as your death approaching, and make it known it won’t claim you today.”

A city of fire and ash.

She felt the connection to him in that look; saw what she knew her mother saw. The male without a crown. Agalhor was a fierce warrior and protector, loved by his people, feared by his enemies. And Faythe… She was half of him. Or at least, she believed she had the potential to be, strengthened by the pride in his eyes, which she allowed herself to accept, but which left her at a complete loss for words.

She helped me believe I was worth the life I still held when so many others had lost theirs at my hand—literally or collaterally.”

As creatures born to feel nothing, they indulged in the opportunity to feel something.

“Which of them hurt you?”

“Don’t be afraid of the past that has made you stronger.”

“Accepting help is not a weakness, Faythe, and Reylan warned me you may fight against it. But a legion is far mightier than a lone soldier. Strength is in those who know when help is needed and are not afraid to ask for it. And in those who listen, even when the truth is hard to hear.”

“You defied the odds to exist. You’ll defy them again to survive.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you.” She didn’t have to try.

No eyes, no pressure, no expectations. Just…quiet.

“If you value your innocence, I’d be selective about which books you dive into from that particular row,” Zaiana said, only now realizing which set had caught her attention.

fellow smut slut 😆

“There’s no shame in finding out what brings you pleasure. Just as there’s no shame if you find those books aren’t to your particular taste.”

“You’re to be a weapon in my arsenal, Amaya. Don’t mistake this as anything more than my doing what is necessary to keep you out of the hands of those who will attempt to dull the edge of your blade while I sharpen it.”

“Don’t limit yourself. The battlefield is never a place to think of fairness when your life is on the line. You have a great advantage. Use it.”

“To have Faythe: to live like death is a game, love is a prize, and danger is desire.”

Zaiana and her six were always one step ahead, solving problems before they were posed. Of course, nothing in battle was ever certain. Planning always came second to mastering adaptability. To expect the unexpected and be able to use mind over body was key to not getting caught out. Zaiana had every faith in herself—not out of arrogance, but from spending every year of her existence learning not only how to stay alive, but how to rise against the odds.

“In darkness may you triumph.”