Page 1 of A Flame of the Phoenix

PROLOGUE

Approx. 500 years ago

It took seven Gods to create her, and one mortal man to break her. One might find her tale tragic, but she would come to make it her legacy. They would not win.

In her cursed immortal fae form, she had two paths of fate: submit to the dire choices she’d made and allow herself to succumb to a desolate, piteous existence; or take back all that had been stolen from her.

She stared down at the man she once loved. The man she’d given up her divinity for. The man who was nothing more than a pretty lie…

Her choice was already made, with the dull heart that had become a dead weight in her hand.

His hair, as dark as the black soul he’d parted with, was spilled like ink across his face. Strands touched his eternal glass eyes of horror, still echoing with the scream from when she’d taken her revenge. He should have known what was stolen was always bound to be collected. Nothing in this world was withouta bargain. Though he’d reaped far more reward than she this time.

This was the last time she would lose.

From the gruesome sight of what was left of him, she felt nothing.

It wasn’t enough.

Not enough revenge. Or solace. Or triumph. Maybe nothing ever would be. But her choice wouldn’t end here.

Despite all the ways he had wronged her, hurt her, in such deplorable ways, never did she believe a mortal to be capable of conspiring…

She mourned for him.

For herself.

Unable to tear her gaze away, all her mind could torment her with was,Why?

Why, why, whycouldn’t it have been real? Their love…it had once felt soreal.

There was nothing more despairing than being fooled by one’s own weak heart, which she considered ripping out in the same manner.

Yet she couldn’t even if she wanted to. She could not die. She could not be killed by mortal means.

“You did this to me,” she whispered, letting the cold organ slip from her grasp.

Even in death, he’d won.

Her tears were hot against the ice that began to embrace all that she was.

Though it was his heart that lay torn from his chest, it was hers that would pay the price for his betrayal. For eternity.

Love was damning. Love was cruel. Love was weakness.

All she had now was time.

She looked down at the thick black stone bracelets. Pretty shackles to her power. Whatever dark magick they’d used tobind them, she would find a way to break them. That, she promised their damned souls.

Swiping up his sword, she found it was heavier than she anticipated with her weak muscles. She made it to the door and listened. She didn’t have her power, which could kill everyone in this wretched place in minutes, and she knew little of how to use the weapon tightly clutched in her grip. It was in that moment she dedicated herself to learning. To becoming death incarnate to track every one of those in Ceaser’s band who’d basked in the glory of capturing a Goddess and made a mockery of her name.

Then she would break her chains and save the world too. Of weakness; of human greed.

The scraps of fabric that covered her body were drenched in blood, but she wore it proudly as she left that room that would haunt her for the rest of her immortal days. Where she’d spent years in captivity. Used for her blood.

She’dmadethem what they were. It was her blood that Transitioned humans into fae.

“Marvellas.”

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