Name: A Throne From the Ashes
Rating: 4.368421052631579 (19 reviews)

C.C. Peñaranda

A Throne From the Ashes

Bia || Alpi 

When the maneuver had processed, Faythe exhaled hard, coming back to her full senses. Sapphire eyes eyes claimed her entirely as she stared at him in bewilderment, their faces so close they shared breath. Those few seconds slowed despite him being quick to straighten with her. His arm didn't drop immediately. His palm flattened against her back, fingers grazing over her spine, the slow trail of his hand ending at her waist before his touch left her and she unfurled her fists. They never broke eye contact.

Faythe couldn't be sure if her heart was thundering from dwindling combat or the prickling sensation that crawled over her skin at his closeness.

When she dropped her eyes back down, she fixed them hard on the prince. Ice sedated her fears and cooled the quick heat of embarrassment. She would not let him win. "Do you want to know what I see whenI look at you, Malin?"

The prince quirked a brow, finding entertainment in her opposition.

"Fear. So expertly hidden behind false confidence. A name is just a word, another mask. Without a crown, without that claim to the Ashfyre name, who are you?" She didn't leave room for answer. "The difference between you and me is that I don't need a name or a title or a damned thing to tell me who or what I am. I didn't come here to lay claim to a throne from name alone, but I also didn't come all this way to deny my heritage. 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."

"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.

 was exactly where she expected each of themn 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. Not through size or physical strength, but because each of them possessed unique attributes that made them an unshakable force to be reckoned with. Zaiana's destination had been the pit anyway — not out of want, but out of duty as an overseer. It was the time of evening the young Silverfairs and Blackfairs would be in training. As much as it was deliriously dull and frustrating to watch, Zaiana's presence as the delegate was needed to keep them in line.

"Now, now, Zaiana, they were just having a little fun with one curious enough to wander over. If any of them should be reminded to stay in line, it is your own."

Zaiana ground her teeth at the sound of Maverick, delegate of the Blackfairs. He sauntered over, picking aimlessly at the cuff of his leathers with an insufferable poise of arrogance. How many times had she envisioned tearing his throat out with her bare hands? She always promised to follow through one day. Perhaps when they weren't damned to live together under the abominable confines of the Mortus Mountains.

Zaiana turned from the darklings to face off with the wickedly beautiful male. The quickest way to tell the Transitioned from the Born was in their onyx eyes, a darkness that consumed whatever humanity they might have harbored as fae. Maverick was turned into a dark fae after being captured from the kingdom of Dalrune over a century ago. He was one of the most successful transitions in their history, having kept the abil- ity of fire he was born with when so many lost theirs — and their sanity.

Maverick and Zaiana were two of the very few who possessed any magick among the dark fae. They had grown up side by side but always in competition. She bested him at many things, but he wasn't above cheating or lying to get his way — something Zaiana had no time or respect for.

Two days since her rocky parting with Reylan and the hours were already passing far too slowly, each one watering the bud of an ache that grew in his absence, Faythe had given Reuben time to rest and adjust that morning after more hours of endless chatter and even some laughter, but still, he couldn't distract her from the nagging hollowness in her stomach. She didn't know exactly when the general would return. It had only been a couple of days, but she missed him.

Rounding the next corner, Faythe spied a set oI double doors down the hall, open enough that she could peek inside. She walked toward them with extra caution, hearing faint shuffling from behind the wood. She didn't know if it was improper to invite herself in without knocking, but considering the doors were already open, Faythe decided to chance her luck in the hope it Would be Kyleer or at least someone she could ask for his whereabouts. Bracing a hand on one of the doors, she slowly and silently craned her neck to look through the gap.

Her eyes widened at the sight, cheeks flaming hot, and she instinctively retreated. She'd found one brother, albeit not the one she was on the hunt for. She stayed as still as death, hoping Izaiah and his companion hadn't detected her unwelcome intrusion. His male companion, whom he was engaged in a very compromised position with against the far wall. The passionate kiss they shared was heated enough that Faythe felt slick with sweat over her accidental trespassing.

Faythe went to return her bow, but Kyleer's quiet voice halted her steps. "He's visiting..." He trailed off, hesitant. When Faythe turned back, Kyleer's eyes were creased in sorrow. Her stomach knotted. "He's visiting a grave. It's in Fenher," he explained carefully, cautious of just how much he shared with her. He knew it wasn't his place to say.

Faythe's regret over how she'd spoken to Reylan before he left twisted tighter. Her voice fell. "Why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"Im sure he will. It's...hard for him. Reylan hasn't opened up about his past to anyone in a very long time."

slipped up. Not with Reylan's past, but his own. His words were tight, broken, and ice embraced her. The muscles in his large arms flexed, and his shoulder blades stiffened.

Faythe said carefully, barely louder than a whisper, You... you had a mate?" As she spoke in past tense, her heart splintered for him.

Kyleer straightened but didn't turn to face her. She couldn't read his expression, but she opened herself up to feel his suffering. Perhaps he didn't realize he'd let the emotion slip past his guard and settle over him in a shroud of palpable anguish. It was so raw, sorrowful, and draining... Faythe felt suffocated under his unfathomable grief. To lose a mate was to lose half of one's soul forever.

"Yes," he confirmed, his voice devoid of any emotion. A tremor swept through her. "Her name was Greia, and she was my mate, but we weren't... 

." He turned to face her then, guarded but curious to see her reaction.

"Yes," he confirmed, his voice devoid of any emo- tion. A tremor swept through her. "Her name was Greia, and she was my mate, but we weren't... 

Kyleer reached for another bow, smaller. He walked over to her and replaced her longer one with it. Faythe weighed the lighter bow.

"When we recognize our mate, it's not typically an instant love. In fact, on rare occasions, a true pairing might never find such a feeling" he explained as she followed him back to the target range. "Greia was already with another when I met her. It was during the Great Battles, and she was one of the healers who joined my legion to help with the wounded." He passed her an arrow, which Faythe took warily before nocking it to the string.

Another voice carried across the hall to answer. “Biting, especially between mates, is a pleasure beyond your wildest imagination, dear Faythe. And almost always performed alongside… other acts." Izaiah crept up to them, the most devious grin upturning one side of his mouth. "I should have known this is where you'd run off to.”

Faythe flushed at his bold explanation of 

. Then the second half of his statement registered, and her already warm cheeks caught fire as she knew what he meant.

"You could have joined, you know. I'm not opposed to the idea of having a woman involved," he teased, stalking toward her with his hands stuffed casually into his finely tailored pants' pockets.

Zaiana stayed still a moment longer in the empty council chamber to be sure the masters and High Lord were well out of range of crossing paths with her again. She cast her eyes up, spying the marvelous glow of the quarter moon from the opening in the mountain-top, top, and counted the stars, letting her mind be subdued and welcoming wandering thoughts. All creatures had desires, even one as cold, brutal, and heartless as she. Zaiana had ended countless lives without thought, without hesitation. She was a monster of the most dangerous kind: a beast behind beauty. Yet sometimes... she wished she could be different. She wished she could care.

Faythe had yet to fully admit to anyone that ever since her ordeal in High Farrow — her mental torture at the hands of the slain Captain Varis and everything that followed — the memories had haunted her in her sleep and otherwise. She had long forgotten what a full night's rest felt like. This was a familiar drain, like the one she'd suffered for decades before she was made aware of her Nightwalking.

It terrified her. She didn't think she was capable of hosting her own dreams or nightmares. Nik had enlightened her to the fact Nightwalkers didn't experience their own unconscious visions in sleep. Yet every time she gave over to the exhaustion she fought daily, Faythe skipped straight past her gold-and-white mist without even a glimpse of its glittering beauty and landed straight into the sickening relayed visions of Jakon and Marlowe's death, the captain's taunts and caresses, or worse, Caius's very real, agonizing murder.

"She was...a lot like you, actually." His lips curved, eyes holding something that fluttered in her stomach. "Headstrong, fierce, but with a tender heart. As golden as her eyes — 

A warm, genuine smile found her lips. Faythe nestled into the armchair, curling her legs up and fixing the blanket. She lay her head against the tall side of the chair. "Can you tell me more about her?"

Reylan's mouth curled, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight. He too leaned back, getting comfortable to begin a short string of stories about her mother in Rhyenelle. Stories she'd only ever dreamed of being able to hear.

All the heavy conversation and sadness became distant while Faythe tuned in to the gentle roughness of Reylan's voice telling those tales. of peace, of antics, of bravery. Soon, she couldn't fight the weight of her eyelids. Words blurred, leaving behind a soothing, deep hum whose serene waves softly pulled her under, into a blissful sleep.

Zaiana bit back her scoff, having had enough of the jesting for one night. She swam for the edge, but when she got to the shallow end, which ascended into natural, uneven stone steps, she halted. It flared her anger that she wouldn't get to storm away without further acknowledgment of his presence, but reluctantly, she turned her head back to check if he was staring before exposing herself. Her scars were a hidden armor she didn't reveal to anyone.

 staring, as she expected, and at his smirk of amusement she was about to screw what he saw to make a point. But then he turned his head away, fingertips tracing the jagged ledge as if to occupy himself. Zaiana didn't hesitate and took the opportunity, not knowing how many seconds his subdued deviance would hold out for. She quickly slipped into a robe that hid the lattice of her back and chest at least then snatched up her clothes, making to leave as his voice traveled to her with a darkness that swept a shudder over her body.

She dared a glance back. Maverick's expression was hard to decipher. There was a coldness that was always present, but now it seemed woven with a chilling Wrath. He meant which of the masters had inflicted her 

. Why he cared to ask she couldn't be sure. Zaiana raised her chin, casting her eyes to the exit as her feet pressed for it.

She didn't look at him again as she muttered coldly, "All of them."

Livia smiled a little. "I'm not. I've long had my revenge and built myself up from what happened to me. But while my story may be visible, the scars that cut deepest are often those we harbor within." They held each other's eye, and as much as she felt utterly exposed by the way Livia studied her, Faythe couldn't look away. "Don't be afraid of the past that has made you stronger."

The words struck her, pained her, as she realized the fae in front of her knew everything. Faythe couldn't find the emotion to be angry or embarrassed that Reylan might have told her everything she suffered back in High Farrow... because her words were exactly what Faythe needed to hear.

"Why is everyone so gloomy about this? See the adventure! You all just need to have a little..." Izaiah paused as his gaze fell to her, a cunning grin splitting his cheeks. "Have a little 

 He shot her a wink, reveling in the play on her name.

Faythe rolled her eyes as she stepped down from the training platform, and they all turned to leave the hall. "I don't think faith and belief are going to help us out there," she commented.

Izaiah smirked. "Oh, I don't mean in the literal sense." Faythe's brow curved in question, and he grinned wickedly. "To have Faythe: to live like death is a game, love is a prize, and danger is desire."

Livia giggled, and even Reylan's stern face upturned in amusement.

"Who knew you could be so poetic, Izaiah?" Livia remarked. "It's quite fitting."

Faythe's cheeks heated while they all teased, but her embarrassment was cast aside by the smiles upon their faces that brought her great joy to see. Reylan caught her eye, sapphires bright with the warmth on his face. The others were ahead, chatting between themselves.

She was thrown back into the confines of her subconscious, landing painfully with force. She didn't bother trying to stand up as she curled into herself and cried. 

, she missed her friends so hard it cut deep and physical. All she needed was to see Nik and hear the others were safe. Even if just for a minute. Faythe trembled as she thought of them and what they might think of her as she'd failed to check in even once in months.

 she lay there, she felt something trying to pull her from her subconscious. She wanted to fight it and stay, to wallow in her own self-pity and failure, but it became far too strong for her to resist, and reluctantly, she gave in to that pull.

Her eyes fluttered open not to meet darkness as she expected. Instead, familiar sapphire eyes looked down on her. Then she felt his hand at her face, his warm palm at her cheek momentarily soothing the pain in her heart. He pulled it away once she was awake, the cold breezed across the damp trails giving away that she'd been crying.

Reylan's face was deeply disturbed and etched with concern. "Another nightmare?" he asked softly.

Faythe bit her lip, shaking her head, and had to cover her face out of shame and defeat. "I can't do it," she croaked.

She felt the bed dip as Reylan inched closer. Then his hands went over hers to guide them down from her face, "You don't have to hide from me, Faythe." His words were enough to soothe some of her grief, and she composed herself. She shuffled up to sit against the headboard as she took deep breaths to calm down.

Faythe watched him carefully. He was slow to walk to her, his reaction not what she was expecting. He looked around her mists as if he were 

. No lines creased his face, but in his wandering gaze it was as though he traveled elsewhere while observing her colors. Then his eyes met hers, and Faythe was claimed by his look. Just fora split second with their air of wonder. A tremor swept through her as he neared, stopping close enmough to touch.

She wanted to ask what he was thinking, noting he'd closed off all his own emotions in here. Never would she think to break past those boundaries though it was within her power to do so. Before she could, Reylan cast a look around once more, the tension shifting as he made a casual, curious sound.

Faythe folded her arms. "You don't seem impressed."

Reylan chuckled at her reaction. "I guess I'm just not surprised." He stuck a hand out, and in his palm a Small tornado swirled beautifully, slowly separating the white until it was a flurry of pure, glittering gold.

Faythe was momentarily awestruck. Nik had never been able to manipulate her mists. Or at least he'd never tried to. But even in Nik's mind, she couldn't recall haying an influence on its appearance or otherwise.

"There's something I've been waiting to give to you," Agalhor said thoughtfully.

When Faythe turned to him, he waved over a nearby guard who held something wrapped in a crimson velvet cloth. The king stood as he got close enough to take the item into his own hands. As he came around to her side, Faythe also felt compelled to get to her feet. When they stood facing each other, Agalhor unwrapped the item that stole Faythe's breath the moment she laid eyes upon it.

"They call it the Eye of the Phoenix," Agalhor said as he admired the amulet he held. It was a fitting name. The intricate ornate silver band held a single brilliant amber stone in its center, but it moved ever so faintly with tendrils of red like a live flame. "It has been in the Ashfyre line since the age of the Phoenix Riders. It is said to have been forged in Phoenixfyre, a deadly weapon, but also great protection. It may all be superstition, but it has always been passed to the first-born child in each generation." Agalhor held out a hand, but Faythe was too stunned.

Faythe slowly reached out her hand in answer, and his calloused fingers grazed her skin as he went to adorn her wrist with the Eye of the Phoenix. She couldn't hold in her gasp as the cold metal touched her skin. The faint prickling of unexplainable energy tingled over her hand, up her arm, and ignited in a small burst of flame in her chest, snuffing out the darkness that clouded her mind, like a shockwave of strength. She looked to Agalhor with wide eyes. He looked back with a pride she had never seen before. Pride reserved for a father to his child. With the acceptance of the amulet, Faythe felt something far more powerful and heavy bearing down: the weight of the phantom crown that had her straightening in turn to bear the acceptance of that too.

"Thank you," she said quietly through the emotion that choked her.

Agalhor was slow to release her wrist. "I shouldn't say this, as it is not certain with the challenges that lie ahead when you return from your duty. We may not have had the privilege of filling these halls with your laughter as you grew, of collecting the memories of your childhood, or of watching you bond with the people as their princess, Faythe, but I still see it all the same, and I know I am not alone." His hand raised to her cheek, and her vision blurred around the edges at the wave of his pride that pierced her chest. "My daughter, Rhyenelle's lost flame returned. Just like your mother... you would make a gracious queen, Faythe Ashfyre."

An amazing book, page turner!!! Even tho it's inspired from Acotar, you coul see the difference in the characters and the plot, distancing itself from Sarah J. 

Andrada Nane

This one was SO MUCH BETTER than the previous books! The pacing was very steady, and moved at just the right speed. The plot was compelling. I LOVED the new characters (seriously, I think Zaiana might be my favorite in this series). Most of all, the romances were sweet and spicy, and I grew to love the characters that we already knew.

Remember when I said in my last review of AQCTP that I thought Faythe was annoying? Well, man, did she step up in this book. Her character development was amazing to watch, and I came to root for her many times in this book!

I am also upset by that cliffhanger because I know the next book follows Nik and Tauria, and I want to see what happens with Faythe after this book. Oh well. If the next book is anything like this book, I am sure I will love it. Overall, I have come to care for this series, and while not my favorite of all time, I really enjoy it and look forward to seeing what the author chooses to do.

Emily B

4.5 STARS:

This one was SO MUCH BETTER than the previous books! The pacing was very steady, and moved at just the right speed. The plot was compelling. I LOVED the new characters (seriously, I think Zaiana might be my favorite in this series). Most of all, the romances were sweet and spicy, and I grew to love the characters that we already knew.

Remember when I said in my last review of AQCTP that I thought Faythe was annoying? Well, man, did she step up in this book. Her character development was amazing to watch, and I came to root for her many times in this book!

I am also upset by that cliffhanger because I know the next book follows Nik and Tauria, and I want to see what happens with Faythe after this book. Oh well. If the next book is anything like this book, I am sure I will love it. Overall, I have come to care for this series, and while not my favorite of all time, I really enjoy it and look forward to seeing what the author chooses to do.

A Throne From the Ashes

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