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

by C.C. Peñaranda

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.”

“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.”

“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.”

As though the beat of her heart were tied to his own. Yet he didn’t fear it. Not in the slightest.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Whatever would become of them, however short or long, she wanted all the time that had now been put on a cruel, unstoppable countdown.

“You defied the odds to exist. You’ll defy them again to survive.” The way he spoke those words, sapphire forging with gold, struck her with a new will—a reason—to take a stand against fate. To live and see the world reemerge from the clouds of war and evil. And she wanted to see it all, feel it all, with him by her side.

“You’re almost hanging off the bed, Reylan. I don’t bite.” Her eyes fell closed, but a small, devious smile tugged at her lips.

Reylan shuffled closer until he felt the faint, radiating warmth of her body and relaxed in the comfort of it. At knowing she was close, and safe.

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

“Why think of the ending of something that has not been given the chance to begin?

Why deny yourself the chance to be happy and damn whatever the ending may be?”

Then the sun and moon collided. A ray of the brightest light flared in her mind, shooting to her chest and bursting with a warmth so pure and safe.

“I don’t know what the future holds or where the path may end, but I plan to follow you down whatever perilous, reckless, adventurous road you lead, Faythe Ashfyre.” His lips curled in tender amusement. “I vow to stand by your side. I vow to protect you with my sword and my life. And I vow to bind my fate to yours, if you will have me. I’ve lived enough years in this world to know should you leave it, so too shall my desire to stay here without you.”

“I’ve had a long time to think of every way I want to have you, Faythe.” Her name on his tongue always sent sparks through her body, but in this tone dipped in gravel, infused with rising lust, heat formed insatiably between her legs.

“Are you trying to entice me into staying alive?” He pulled back to look at her with a wicked smile. “Depends. Is it working?” Faythe bit her lip, which flared a hunger in his eyes. “Definitely,” she whispered,

“Until the end of days, Reylan Arrowood.” His smile—warm, genuine, and heartbreakingly rare—had become the light in her eternal shadow. “Maybe even longer, Faythe Ashfyre.”

This was a need so demanding she thought she would come apart right then.

Faythe’s hands curled over his at her face. “I know what a mate means to your people—” He kissed her. So soft and barely-there. Against her lips, he said, “You are my people.”

“You brought me back,” she whispered. “You always bring me back.” Reylan shook his head. “No, Faythe.” Both his palms held her face. “You brought me back.”

“Now, I’m not afraid to tell you I’m not sorry. That I would do it again. That I would kill every single man or fae who dares to look at you the way he did. And I would not be sorry.”

His hand cupped around her nape. “Where did you come from, Faythe Ashfyre?” The question was simply an airing of his wonder as he drank every inch of her face as though searching for an answer that didn’t exist. “From the twisted depths of the Nether, most likely,” she muttered lightheartedly.

“Gods, Faythe, me too.”

“But I’ve come to realize tomorrow isn’t my promise to give. What I can promise…is me. Until the last tomorrow comes. I want you to know every broken piece of me belongs to you.”

“Say it,” he breathed. A longing plea.

“I

was going to say I love you…” She took a short pause. Pain swelled in her chest, stealing her breath. “But it’s not enough. Not for what I feel for you.” Faythe shook her head, unable to voice what this was between them because it was so much more than that single mundane word. Love.

“You are my heart, Faythe Ashfyre. When you lose yourself to anger, when you are consumed by passion, when you risk yourself defending… Gods, do I love every impossible, reckless, and fierce part of you.” Faythe released a laugh mixed with a cry. Her eyes blurred, but elation kept her tears from falling. “And I will spend the rest of my days showing you when words fail that you are everything. In this life or the next, I will always find you.”

“And nothing has ever driven me as insane as you do, Faythe Ashfyre.” His mouth opened and closed around her neck, his elongated canines scraping there, and a shallow cry left her. “I plan to worship every inch of you. Again and again, until you believe it. My love and desire for you knows no limits.”

“You were made for me.” Reylan glanced down between them, watching where he pulled back and entered her anew with the release of a harsh breath that scattered down her stomach. Faythe whimpered in bliss. “Gods, you feel incredible.”

“I

can’t,” she breathed, not having any words to follow, only knowing that her end was so near. Reylan’s mouth was on her throat as he said, “Let go, Faythe.” His mouth opened and his canines dragged along her collar. Gods, she wanted him to bite. The sharpness pinched harder than before as he fought with restraint, against his primal fae instinct to mark and claim.

“I would have endured it all again.” Reylan kissed where her feelings had spilled over. “For centuries over if it led me to you, Faythe.” Then he kissed her mouth, the salt of her tears on his lips. His pain and hers. His joy and hers.

Reylan halted with the others, eyes fixed with calculating fury on the blade at her throat. Izaiah and Livia assessed both sides of the situation with lethal focus and consideration. Reuben was panting as he caught his breath, but he stood armed with two short daggers. Gods, she was in pain. On fire. But he was here, and even if the power claimed her this time, Reylan was here, and she could tell him… “Don’t you dare.” His voice was clear through the glare of light in her mind. Faythe

held onto those sapphires while her life balanced between being claimed by steel or magick. “Don’t you give up, Faythe Ashfyre.”

“I’m here.” His smooth voice, his words, made a whimper escape her mouth.

Reylan fell to his knees with her. “I see you, Faythe. I see you, and I hear you.”

“It hurts,” was all she could say. Or at least she thought she said. Her throat was so tight, her mind a cloudy haze of rage and pain. “It hurts so much.” “I know.” His voice lapped soothingly through her mind, a cooling breeze against the raging inferno.

“You are far stronger than you know, Faythe. You need to get up.”

“Please,” she barely whispered. “Please make it stop.”

“I can’t.” Reylan’s voice was utterly devastated. He pulled back, and his fingers curled

under her chin, forcing her lifeless head up to stare into the familiar sapphires that were her anchor to this world.

“If I help you release that power, your body will fail. You need to keep fighting just a little longer. Fight through this night. Fight for everything I haven’t had the chance to give you yet. For the life I promise to always stand by your side throughout.”

“Until the end of days.”

“Maybe even longer.”

“Faythe.” Reylan’s voice was so gentle as he emerged into the open space. Faythe sobbed harder out of relief and joy that he was here. He dropped to a crouch in front of her. “I see you—” “And I hear you,” she finished in a croak. Reylan smiled, and she mirrored it weakly.

“If you harm her—” He took a few calming breaths, his wrath a tangible force in the room. “There is no place you will be able to hide. No distance you can run. I will find you. And when I do, death is not what you will fear from me, though it is what you will beg for.”

“I’m sorry.” “Don’t,” Reylan begged. “Don’t say that like goodbye.” “I’m not saying goodbye…” Gods, she was hurting, her heart close to erupting. “Because in this life or the next, I will always find you.” “Please,” Reylan spoke aloud. Not to Faythe, as his tense grip on the bow slackened, fury dissolving into pure desperation. “Take my life instead.”

“Reylan,” Faythe whimpered. “Please…” She begged him with her eyes; with everything she was through that unexplainable bond that strained and cried painfully between them, sending her toward breaking point. She begged him to leave. To look away. To accept that this was her fate, and it was not his fault. They deserved the life they had glimpsed together. Yet she couldn’t be sad or angry, nor resentful or vengeful. All she felt…was gratitude. Faythe was grateful even for the short time she’d had in this world. She was grateful for the love she was wrapped with even when

she didn’t deserve it. For Jakon and Marlowe. For Nik and Tauria. For everyone who had accepted her and followed her. But most of all…she was grateful for him. The love she felt from him, for him, was worth every moment of borrowed time.