A Queen Comes to Power: An Heir Comes to Rise Book 2 Read online

  “Caius warned me of the king’s plan to have you detained. I left straight away and had horses ready to leave. For both of us. When it was Caius who showed up at the stables instead of you, and with the look on his face…” His jaw flexed, and his gloved hands tightened on the reins. He looked away from her as he continued. “He told me they took you to the tower instead of the dungeon. The casing on the window didn’t even have gaps big enough for the smallest creature to fit through, or I might have shifted into your cell and killed every single guard it took to get you out against the odds.” His eyes flinched as he looked over the sun-kissed hills. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you. And I wish I got the chance to thank Caius for everything he did for you in there—everything he did for all of us.”

  Faythe’s heart cracked at the mention of her lost friend.

  “I had to make sure you stayed alive at least long enough for Agalhor and his forces to arrive. I didn’t come back to High Farrow alone. Izaiah, a Shapeshifter, remained hidden with orders to send for Agalhor if given the signal. He got word to Rhyenelle immediately, taking the form of an eagle, and I borrowed some of his ability to stay in the only form I could to see you. I’ve never held onto an ability for so long before and was close to draining myself completely, but you needed something familiar, a regular sight—as obscure as it was—to know you weren’t alone. Then the captain…” Reylan trailed off as if unable to finish. A flicker of frightening rage crossed his face. But she didn’t fear it. Faythe didn’t think she could ever be afraid of what he was capable of.

  Reylan was a battle-hardened warrior by glance, cold and fearless, but she wondered how many he let in for long enough to see his armor removed. Above everything else she had to face in Rhyenelle, Faythe was dedicated to him. To discovering everything Reylan was beneath his fierce exterior, knowing there was nothing that could make her turn her back on him now.

  “My only regret is that I didn’t get to make Varis suffer for what he did to you. But I found out you took quite good care of that yourself.” One corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in bittersweet pride.

  Faythe couldn’t find it in her to even muster a smile, at a complete loss for words. A lump formed in her throat as she didn’t expect the sincerity and loyalty from him. She’d done nothing to deserve it. In fact, she felt overwhelmingly guilty for how she treated him before.

  “I think a part of me knew it was you all along,” she said, reflecting back though it tensed her body and slicked her skin to recall the horrors that haunted her while awake and in sleep. “I’m sorry for shouting at you. You must have thought I was insane.” She laughed weakly, admittedly embarrassed by her outbursts.

  He shook his head. “I thought you were insanely brave. Gods, Faythe, you have far more resilience than even some of the best warriors I know.”

  Faythe wanted to mention that she might not have made it on her own without his silent presence in the lonely cell. But in his eye, it was as if he already knew.

  The evening was peaceful, the still hills serene as each blade of green grass was torched bright amber by the flare of the magnificent descending sun.

  “You’ll like it in Rhyenelle.”

  Reylan’s thoughtful voice pulled Faythe’s gaze from the wavy illusion of fire over the hills.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because you are your mother’s daughter.”

  Her heart swelled. The comment meant more to her than he could ever know, filling her with new hope and determination.

  “It’s not every day a human queen comes to power,” he said, more to himself, with a short breath of disbelief.

  She spluttered an incredulous laugh as an anxious defense mechanism. “I won’t ever be that,” she said quickly, unable to even say the title in reference to herself.

  He cast her a sideward glance. “It’s not impossible.”

  “It’s completely impossible. I’ll be long gone with my mortal lifespan before that could ever happen. And just as well too.”

  “You’re half-fae. You could live for two, perhaps even three hundred years.”

  Faythe paled. She had never even thought having the heritage in her blood could affect her lifespan. The prospect weighed her with dread more than excitement.

  She held it together as she said, “And Agalhor could live for another millennia. Besides, I don’t want a crown. Of any kind,” she added, recoiling at the idea of even being considered a princess. It wouldn’t be fair to the citizens of Rhyenelle to expect them to call her that. She was but a foreign human in their lands. Though Faythe was committed to doing what it took to prove herself and fit in with the humans and fae there, she didn’t expect any different treatment or privileges because of who her bloodline father happened to be. They too were strangers still, and the thought of trying to build a relationship with the powerful fae ruler daunted her more than anything. She’d pushed that to the very back of her mind in fear it would be the one cowardly reason strong enough to stop her from going at all.

  Reylan continued. “You have it in you to rule. Don’t be so quick to discredit yourself. You have nothing to prove to anyone.”

  “I have everything to prove.”

  “Not to me.”

  Faythe looked into his blue eyes, stunned by the fierce belief in them. She couldn’t be sure if it was as her friend or for what she was to his king. Perhaps both. Regardless, she was grateful for it.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for what’s to come,” she confessed and didn’t hide her fear as she made herself vulnerable to him.

  He gave her a look of understanding, and his encouraging smile already began to ease away some of her worries. “Rhyenelle is ready for you. Whatever you face, I’ll be right there with you.”

  Faythe smiled. “I hope you know you have no choice now,” she said.

  Reylan arched a questioning brow.

  “You’re stuck with me. Like it or not, General Reylan Arrowood, you’ve sealed your fate as my friend. This day, until the end of days.”

  Reylan chuckled—a deep, genuine sound that vibrated delightfully through her. “Spirits help me,” he muttered. Then his low laughter ceased, leaving a warm smile that upturned his lips on both sides and created faint dimples in his cheeks. The smile held a rare flicker of contentment that reflected in his eyes and softened the sharp lines of his face. She wondered just how many people had been able to catch a glimpse behind the steel guard he always wore. Faythe treasured the sight.

  “I promise to stand by you, Faythe Ashfyre. This day, until the end of days.”

  Epilogue

  Reuben

  Weeks turned to months. Months dragged like years. Time became an imperceptible force, and Reuben bowed to its mercy.

  He longed for time to offer him death, for it seemed the only way to find release from the cage of his own mind. There was no door, though it often felt as if he observed the world through a keyhole. He could shout, but no one heard him. He could feel the air, but nowhere was his place to wander freely. Not anymore. Not with the shadow claws that sank into the depths of his mind. It was their domain now, and he was a careless tourist.

  Reuben looked straight into the bright gold eyes across from him—eyes that once comforted him. A color that used to bring him joy now filled him with terror every time they met his. What color were his own eyes? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter anymore.

  The fae female with hair like a waterfall of flame was devastatingly beautiful and masterfully enchanting. She smiled at him from across the ornate oak dining table where she feasted on a delicious spread of fine meats and cheese. She appeared in every sense of the word a queen. But she bore no rightful crown.

  She was brilliant. Gods, she was magnificently brilliant. Perhaps even with his free will, he would have fallen to his knees before her, done anything she asked, no matter the risk or cost.

  The red-haired beauty popped a grape into her sensuous mouth, chewing slowly, eyes fixed on him. Her sultry smile when sh
e finished caressed his spine with both desire and dread. Then she took a long breath, and he watched the expanse of her marvelous full chest from the low cut of her blood-red gown.

  “I’m afraid our time together is coming to an end,” she said through the silence they’d sat in for a long while. Hours, perhaps. She stood, floating from her chair like a wave, gliding toward him like a pretty, poisonous snake. How could such beauty be so lethal?

  As the enchantress landed at his side, a slender hand came up to his shoulder, trailing over his chest as she stopped behind him. He shouldn’t enjoy her touch. But he did. He would bow to that touch.

  She leaned in close, her voice an alluring whisper. “Will you miss me, Reu?” she purred in his ear.

  No, he wanted to scream.

  But his head slowly nodded.

  Her fingers gripped his chin, turning his face to stare into those glittering molten eyes. Those of a snake primed to strike. Her rouge-painted lips drew closer, and she kissed him. He didn’t feel it—he didn’t feel anything. His mouth moved for her, but it wasn’t to her approval. She pulled back, eyes flickering with veins of fire while she looked over his face.

  “Prove it,” she said in that melodic voice, guiding him to stand.

  Looking down at her face, he glimpsed something he rarely saw behind her exterior of cold grace. Something that almost made him…pity her. A creature who longed for love but had no idea how to acquire its true essence.

  His hand grazed the surface of her chest, over her neck, and held her face as it angled back. Her lips parted in silent invitation for him to close the gap between them.

  Another person flashed through his mind while he stared into those gold eyes. With hair darker, browner. With rounded ears, not like the fae. But what was her name?

  “I’ll tell you what,” the seductress drawled playfully, “how about a kiss in return for a memory?”

  A memory. Did he want that? Perhaps there was a reason he couldn’t remember. A reason he didn’t want to remember.

  Yet he sealed his answer when his lips met hers. Not a small, tender kiss; this female preferred passion. It was in the way she moved. In her poise and her voice: wild and untamed yet perfectly composed. She broke the kiss abruptly, but her smile was feline, not a smudge on her painted lips, not a hair out of place.

  Nothing about her was ever shy of perfection.

  “That’s better,” she cooed. “Now, for your gift.” Her eyes turned hypnotic.

  The longer he held them, the more he saw movement in her irises, as if they’d captured the sun within them. Then he felt the claws in his mind hissing, resisting whatever was trying to pry them free.

  No. No, no, no, no.

  He didn’t want them gone. He realized they were his absolution. The barrier that kept him from confronting his past, from seeing what he used to be and all that he betrayed in that life. He enjoyed the numbness those claws brought out; the sedation they filled his senses with. He didn’t fear. He didn’t think. He didn’t feel anything in their embrace.

  Reuben screamed when one tore free. But it was not a sound that echoed through the room. The pain, the torture…was within his own self. And somehow, the beauty in front heard it all—felt it all—with him. Her hand caressed his cheek, and she whispered things that sounded like soothing notes.

  I don’t want to know. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to see.

  None of his wishes were heard. Images slammed into him. Stories played out in his mind with turbulent motions. Reuben went to his knees, screaming. This time, it tore up his throat like shards of glass. He clamped his hands over his ears, begging for it to stop. It didn’t. His past slammed into him—memory after memory after memory.

  I am Reuben Green.

  His throat burned; his cheeks became wet.

  I came from High Farrow.

  He didn’t want to know—not after everything he’d done.

  Her name…

  Not for what the wicked beauty in front had planned for him.

  What was her name…?

  Not when he would be used to betray all he held dear.

  Faythe.

  Reuben gasped when the dark claws stopped resisting. Their grip loosened, but his memories…he remembered them all with bone-trembling clarity. Everything he’d endured these past months. But it was nothing compared to what he was being prepared for now.

  It was time.

  The dark caress of the female’s chuckle rattled every nerve in his body. She crouched too while he trembled on his knees against the stone, the encounter eerily similar to the first time they met. She’d been biding her time with him, had taken everything that made him who he was so she could hone him, craft him, into her own weapon.

  Her elegant fingers took his chin. He couldn’t fight it—not while his mind remained at her mercy. The dark claws—they were her presence. And she’d relented them enough to make him remember. He didn’t want to, knowing what she planned to use him for; why he had to remember her name.

  Faythe. Oh, Gods, Faythe.

  The female smiled cruelly as if she knew exactly who he thought of. Her next words chilled him right to his core.

  “It’s time for the fun to begin.”

  A KINGDOM…A QUEST…A DESTINY.

  The story continues in…

  A THRONE FROM THE ASHES

  COMING FEBRUARY 2022

  Pronunciation guide

  NAMES

  Faythe: faith

  Reylan: ray-lan

  Nikalias: nick-a-lie-as

  Jakon: jack-on

  Marlowe: mar-low

  Tauria: tor-ee-a

  Caius: kai-us

  Orlon: orr-lon

  Reuben: ru-ben

  Varis: var-iss

  Varlas: var-lass

  Tarly: tar-lay

  Marvellas: mar-vell-as

  Aurialis: orr-ee-al-iss

  Dakodas: da-code-as

  Agalhor: a-ga-lor

  Ashfyre: ash-fire

  PLACES

  Ungardia: un-gar-dee-a

  Farrowhold: farrow-hold

  Galmire: gal-my-er

  High Farrow: high-farrow

  Lakelaria: lake-la-ree-a

  Rhyenelle: rye-en-elle

  Olmstone: olm-stone

  Fenstead: fen-stead

  Dalrune: dal-rune

  OTHER

  Riscillius: risk-ill-ee-us

  Lumarias: lou-ma-ree-as

  Yucolites: you-co-lights

  Dresair: dress-air

  Niltain: nill-tain

  Acknowledgments

  I can’t begin to describe the joy I feel to know that you are on this journey, in this world, with me. Yes, you, my dear reader. You choosing to read my books is the reason I get to keep doing what I love. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

  To my mother, Yvonne–number one crazed fan. Seriously, you don’t have to keep making accounts for every social platform I join. Despite your near stalker tendencies, I couldn’t do this without your constant love and support. Thank you for always being there for me, for cheerleading through the ups and downs. You rock.

  To my sister, Eva, things have been hard for you this past year. I wish you nothing but love and happiness. Thank you for supporting for me and this series throughout everything you’ve faced. You are superwoman.

  To the rest of the family unit, I am so very grateful for the unconditional love and support.

  To my canine companions: Milo, Bonnie, and Minnie. I never thanked you crazy bunch in the last book because I thought people might find it silly, but in truth, it’s not silly to acknowledge you three have seen me through some of my darkest days.

  To my absolutely brilliant editor, Bryony Leah. You deserve far more praise than I can fit in this small paragraph. You helped strengthen so many aspects of this book. Thank you for challenging me, teaching me, and being a cheerleader for this series over and above your invaluable edits. I can’t wait to do it all again. And again. You’re stuck with me inde
finitely.

  To Alice Maria Power, wow girl, I didn’t think you could top the last cover illustration, but you knocked it right out of the park with this one. Your magic never ceases to amaze me. Thank you for coming on this journey with me and perfectly capturing Faythe’s growth.

  To Beck Michaels at Whimsy Book Covers, thank you for yet another fantastic cover design. The dream team has done it again. Thank you for being a great friend and supporter over and above!

  Finally, I’ve thanked you at the beginning and I’ll thank you at the end. To my dear readers, thank you for continuing on this wild ride with me. Your support means the world, and I cannot wait to see you along for the next book. You. Are. Amazing.

  About the Author

  C.C. PEÑARANDA is the Scottish author of the epic fantasy series, An Heir Comes to Rise.

  A lifelong avid reader and writer, Chloe discovered her passion for storytelling in her early teens. An Heir Comes to Rise has been built upon from years’ worth of building on fictional characters and exploring Tolkien-like quests in made up worlds. During her time at the University of the West of Scotland, Chloe immersed herself in writing for short film, producing animations, and spending class time dreaming of far off lands.

  In her spare time from writing in her home in scenic Scotland, Chloe enjoys digital art, graphic design, and down time with her three furry companions. When the real world calls...she rarely listens.

  www.ccpenaranda.com