C C Peñaranda

When courts collide, blood may be spilled. But when destinies collide, blood may hold power. A DUTY... Bound in service to the king within the city, Faythe grapples with morality to keep herself and her friends safe. Nik's loyalty is tested as he struggles against his father's cruel ways. When blood and duty divide the heart, can love conquer all? AN ALLIANCE... While the kingdoms prepare to unite, Faythe is forced to remain hidden in plain sight. But suspicions quickly arise with the mysterious fae general from an ally court. Getting close to Reylan could unravel truths she longed for, but trust is hard to gain and even harder to hold. When lurking evil threatens the alliance that keeps them all safe, Faythe may find herself on the side where danger meets desire in a force that could break past the guard on her heart. A CHOICE... For the threat of battle isn't the only conflict to fear. Faythe can't forget the deal she struck in the woods to save her friend's life-and it's time to fulfil. Finding the temple ruin leads them to harrowing discoveries within the castle...and something far more sinister than the war that lingers. It seems everyone will receive more than they bargained for. A history that haunts, truths that destroy, and a tangled destiny they didn't expect.

An Heir Comes to Rise - Book 2

A Queen Comes to Power

Bia || Alpi 

Faythe kept herself glued to Tauria's side, observing the crowd and marveling at the beauty in the diversity of the court members from other lands. Aside from the colors, every kingdom had distinguishing features represented in its people's attire and hairstyles. Olmstone had an earthy appeal with their stonelike texture and tunics and dresses with straight-cut lines, while the Rhyenelle soldiers were clean-cut in crimson velvet textures that reminded Faythe of ash and fire, making them a dominant force in the room. High Farrow always favored flowing, light fabrics and detailed embroidery that mimicked the calm sea, and as for Tauria in Fenstead green, she radiated life and nature with the intricate patterns of her gown.

 her royal blue colors, Faythe felt strangely out of place despite having been a citizen of High Farrow her whole life. It scared her to acknowledge which of the congregations she was most drawn toward. It had nothing to do with the ridiculously striking fae general. No — while she gazed at the Phoenix crest on the shoulder clasp of one of the accompanying Rhyenelle warriors, she saw the bird's wings catching fire in blazing hues of orange and red as it poised to take flight.

"Riding requires trust on both ends," he continued coolly.

She hated to admit Reylan's calm voice worked wonders to slow her racing heart. A voice that could both inspire strength and invoke fear given the situation. She relaxed her shoulders and loosened her viselike grip on the reins. After another minute, realizing she wasn't about to be thrown from the saddle, a small, triumphant smile tugged at her lips. She actually 

 riding. Sitting high above another walking creatureit was a powerful notion.

Origem do apelido “white lion of the south” do Reylan

Faythe looked to Reylan. "Why do they call you the white lion of the south?" she asked, more as a distraction than anything else.

He huffed a laugh. "You don't miss much, do you?"

"During the Great Battles, I borrowed the ability of a Shapeshifter for long enough to turn myself into an abnormally large white lion and take out a significant portion of an enemy legion."

Though he passed the story off nonchalantly, Faythe gaped a little. She had never seen a Shapeshifter before and blanched at the thought of the fae beside her having the ability to switch forms into something that powerful and terrifying, It brought forth another burning question.

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