Page 236 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Faythe wasn’t ready to say goodbye. They hadn’t had enough time together. The bond that ran through them strained, and Faythe’s hand reached up—reached as though their bond were a physical string she could grip as it tugged painfully toward breaking.

She choked on her next sob when their bondsnapped.

The world silenced at the ringing that filled her ears, only allowing Atherius’s final cry to filter through.

Her knees gave out, but Reylan didn’t let her fall. He lowered with her until they were kneeling, watching the brave and brilliant bird soar higher and higher, almost lost to darkness completely.

Then she erupted.

Atherius became the brightest, most breathtaking star to ever grace the sky, exploding into embers that rained down. Even if some of the shadow creatures anticipated it, she burnedfor long enough that they would be caught in her dying flames the moment they tried to reform.

The end of Atherius was as legendary as her beginning.

Faythe’s head bowed, and Reylan held her tight. But not even he could stop the dark grip that had begun to take hold of her.

Too much loss. Too much bloodshed. Too much sacrifice.

The ruin answered to the eruption of her chaos, and the ruin she became.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Reylan

Faythe’s tense body slackened against him. Her quiet, deep sobs eased away. Reylan felt the shift in her with a spike of dread in his chest.

“Faythe.” He tested her name, not certain it was one he could reach her through anymore.

She’d taken the ruin’s power. All of it. He’d watched her harness it inside the castle with careful caution, hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but her grief had slipped her past the point of caring. And the most heartbreaking part was, he understood.

He repeated her name again but was met with the silence of her building wrath. If he was smart, he would gain distance before she erupted, but Reylan’s promise to stand by her if she destroyed herself remained absolute.

Within, he carefully tried to reach her through the burning core of magick inside her. Reylan tried her name one last time, but before it was finished leaving his lips, Faythe’s palm pushedback, pressing to his wounded chest and projecting him away from her.

The pain spotted his vision. Her attack to his chest was so prominent he didn’t feel the impact of the ground at all.

Blinking furiously, he focused on his breathing, subconsciously pushing up to quickly regain focus. He’d been detrimentally wounded in battle many times. He could push past this. Hehadto, for her.

When Reylan found enough consciousness and breath, he searched for her.

He didn’t find Faythe, but her magick…it was everywhere.

Everything was gilded in shimmering gold. It burned and danced, swallowing darkness and catching on perishable things as collateral. Faythe was purging the city. Of shadow creatures, of dark fae, of anyone and anything with an opposing heart against her or this kingdom.

The city burned in the wrath of Faythe Ashfyre. The line between hero and villain became smoke in the flames of the Phoenix Queen. For the act may hold true to malice, but the intent was a furious will to purge evil. Even if it meant sacrificing the beauty and mortar of own kingdom, and the fragile morality within her soul.

“She’s gone,” Zaiana said.

Reylan stood, unable to regard the dark fae and Kyleer.

All they could do was watch, and Reylan didn’t know what he felt. Shock and horror over this unleashing of pure anguish from Faythe, but also pride. So much damn pride for his mate, who had the strength to fight back with everything she had.

For the brutal and senseless killing of her friend. For the loss of her brave Firebird.

To end a war of greed and power she’d been twice born into.

Faythe appeared, shooting above the highest building in the city. Wings of Phoenixfyre carried her, and she was absolutely magnificent.

“She’s never gone,” Reylan said, staring at his Phoenix on fire. “Not while I’m here.”

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