Page 59 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Reylan

F aythe’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 pushed back, 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. He had to, 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.”

“You’re not enough to stop her now. The ruin is in complete power. Even if you try to take some of it, you only risk dying, and she’ll never come back if that happens.”

“I’m not going to take it—I’m going to become it with her.”

“You’re a damned fool to think that’s any better than what’s happening now. You’ll only be two mindless beings of rage and magick rather than one.”

“Then help me,” Reylan snapped, turning his gaze to let her know he was serious. “You want us to trust you? Help me seal that power back into the ruin. You’re the only one who knows how to wield it safely.”

Her jaw worked, and those purple eyes flared against the fire raging from nearby wreckage. She gave a disgruntled sound, barely audible through the roaring flames and wails of burning enemies.

“The ruin will always pick the strongest vessel. Faythe has the essence of two Spirits within her. It won’t answer to me so easily when it has her.”

Reylan’s jaw worked as that sounded like refusal.

Zaiana went on. “If it’s forced to split between two cores, I might have a chance at sealing half the power when it’s in you. Then it’s up to you to reach Faythe and convince her to let go of the other half so I can seal that too.”

Reylan knew it wasn’t going to be easy. His Phoenix was ablaze with a torn heart, and he had to hope her soul tethered to his was enough to pull her back to him.

He nodded, and his sight slipped to Kyleer for a second. The blankness on his face every time he looked at Reylan was a punch to his gut. If he remembered how much Faythe meant to him, Kyleer would be just as concerned and desperate to save Faythe as he was.

That was a problem to fix later, so for now, as everyone ran from the raging power, Reylan plunged himself deep into the waves of it. He would always, in every darkness and danger, in every realm and every time, run toward Faythe.

Reylan scaled the buildings he could, knowing the labyrinth of this city so acutely he could navigate it blindfolded. Faythe’s golden essence spilling through the streets didn’t burn him, and from the few glimpses through the wreckage he spared, he was relieved to find many citizens, weary and fearful but alive and unharmed by the living magick.

Racing across rooftops, he didn’t have to fight—Faythe was eradicating every darkness in the city. He focused solely on reaching her. He did not falter in pace, climbing higher and scaling closer to where Faythe hovered in the air like a Goddess of light and fire. Her eyes glowed with her tattoos, the light bright enough to break through the seams of her clothing.

When he got as close as he could, he had to shield his eyes against the tempest around her. He yelled her name, but already knew it would be futile. Reylan didn’t have wings to match her in the sky, but if he jumped…

Reylan didn’t have time to deliberate—the ruin was burning past Faythe’s reserves, and she would die.

He backed up, he ran, then he leaped.

Faythe’s head turned right before he slammed into her, twisting them to take the impact when they hit the roof opposite. They skidded with force against the unforgiving slate before rolling and tumbling. He tried to keep hold of her, but Faythe regained her orientation quicker than him, pushing off him with a surge of magick.

Her wings caught her, and as Reylan stopped rolling, she floated down, her feet touching down gracefully on the flat stone of the street they’d fallen onto.

No—not a street. They were in one of the market squares. The one where Agalhor had visited many times, as it was where Liliana had sold flowers at her stall.

“What are you trying to do?” Faythe said, her voice not entirely her own when another echoed over it. She stalked toward him as he rose. So hauntingly beautiful.

“You have to come back to me,” he said, taking steps to meet her.

“I am with you. So long as you don’t try to stop me.”

“The ruin is killing you. Soon you will only be a vessel to it.”

Faythe smiled, but it didn’t truly belong to her. It was like the ruin was a living entity, wearing her face.

She raised her hands to his cheeks. “I have never felt more alive.”

He reached for her too, using the physical connection to strengthen his will to reach past the raging core of magick that blocked him from their bond.

“With you, I am alive,” he said. “Let me join you.”

Reylan touched the core. Immediately, his own well of magick roared in protest, recognizing the danger of wanting to harness such velocity in even half of what Faythe harbored.

She was remarkable. Even as a human she defied every odd, proving time and time again she was more powerful and capable than anyone believed. Even herself.

“I see you, my Phoenix. I see you, I hear you. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come back when this world has hurt you so truly. But you’ve always known you could numb the pain by giving in to your power even without the ruin. You’ve known all this time what you’re capable of, and you’ve been careful, gentle, in learning your power instead of raging against the world when you had every reason to. You’re the strongest, most resilient person to have lived when after all you’ve been though you keep fighting . That is your heart, Faythe Ashfyre. That is the heart I have the most incredible privilege of loving. So if you won’t come back, then take me with you.”

That softened her molten eyes, swirling like the surface of the sun.

“All I feel is pain,” she whispered. Her eyes glistened, and liquid gold spilled over them.

“I know,” he said, resting his forehead on hers.

“All I know is pain , and it never ends. I’ve been a coward all this time. Now I’m free . ”

“Now you’re free,” he echoed. “Take me with you. You promised.”

The mass of power within her started to ease in his presence, allowing his ability to begin absorbing some of it. He’d barely taken any before his skin began to slick with sweat and his veins heated in warning. Reylan ignored it, taking more.

“It’s hurting you,” she said, studying his pinching expression.

“Nothing can hurt me more than your pain.”

Magick like he’d never felt before flowed through his body, as transcendent as it was punishing. Reylan focused on the physical touch of Faythe to bear it. He cupped her nape, her skin burning against his so hot they could fuse into one person.

Then his lips slanted against hers. The moment they kissed, he lost all sense of time, gravity, and being. All he knew was power beyond what should exist in this world, and his love for Faythe, which was beyond any test of distance or time.

If the ruin killed them here, he no longer cared. The power was as addictive as the taste of Faythe. He gripped her tight, crushing their bodies together. He would recognize her soul wherever they might be reborn next. With Faythe, he believed in true immortality. The kind that defied knowledge, logic, or reason.

“Don’t give in!”

That feminine yell frustrated him. It tried to pull him away from the power and Faythe, but he wanted more of both.

He couldn’t breathe when the air was too hot. His passionate kiss with Faythe faltered when he didn’t want to stop for a moment.

“You can do it,” Faythe soothed, holding his head, which fell to rest against her chest. “Stay with me, and we can make everything right.”

He lifted his arm to grip hers, but his body became lead.

What were they doing?

So much power and heat and…

“REYLAN!” Zaiana’s yell jerked through him this time.

He remembered what he needed to do and became horrified he’d almost lost himself to the overwhelming magick with Faythe instead of helping her release it.

Reaching into her jacket, Reylan straightened, tugging her closer against resistance when he felt the icy stone of the ruin. A bitter contrast to the fire it invoked.

Faythe felt him pull it free as she tried to push him away, but Reylan threw it before she could, sensing Zaiana across the square.

“You’re a liar!” Faythe cried, pushing harder with her magick this time. It wasn’t enough for him to lose his footing, but the look of betrayal she pinned him with tore his soul.

Every breath he drew released the power of the ruin he’d taken from Faythe slowly, and Zaiana harnessed it back into its stone prison.

“I have never lied to you,” Reylan breathed. He was close to passing out, having to brace his hands on his thighs.

Faythe approached him, gripping his hair and yanking his head back to look at her. Even in all her anger and loathing, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. He collapsed to one knee.

“Your mother sold flowers right here,” he said. Reylan pictured the beautiful stall, flooding Faythe’s mind with the image. Her grip in his hair loosened, and her face let go of some of her anguish.

“My mother,” she echoed.

“Agalhor became utterly smitten with her. He would visit this market more times than any king should desire, and it quickly became known why he came. The last time he did, he asked her to marry him, unknown to anyone. He kept it private by her request.”

More golden tears streamed down her cheeks, and he could feel the split in the core of her magick. Reylan reached for her. With everything he was, he reached for their bond to pull her out of the misery she was drowning in.

“I am with you. If you burn this world to ash, I’m burning with you. I’m on my knees for you, begging for you to hold on, to want this life. Bond with me, marry me, allow me the honor of ruling by your side. Because we will win. Together, and with our friends both standing and fallen, we cannot lose.”

Faythe sobbed, a sound that tore his heart to shreds. But it was an immense relief to see her emotions. She broke softly, and he broke with her. His sight slipped briefly to Zaiana, who gave an affirming nod. Faythe was letting go, and Zaiana was masterfully drawing the ruin’s power back into the stone slate.

“I want to live, Reylan. But I don’t know if I have the strength to see the end anymore,” she croaked.

“You do. But in times you think you don’t then lean on me. You’re not alone. Never.”

Faythe kneeled slowly, so calm it broke a terrifying chill over his skin. Before she let go of the ruin’s power completely, Reylan felt the tap into his mind, a gentle brush, like an omniscient presence that spread beyond this kingdom. He couldn’t believe it was possible, as Faythe spoke far and wide to the people of Ungardia.

“My name is Faythe Ashfyre, Queen of Rhyenelle and the last true Heir of Marvellas. I have touched death and seen worlds beyond ours. I have fallen, but I have never known defeat. From the ashes our world may burn to, I will always rise. And with me, so will all who stand with me. In this war we are not kingdoms—we are one people. Let your tears for the fallen water the ground we march on, for we, the living, are the soldiers who will grow peace from ashen soil. Never fear, never surrender, and always be ready. The beginning of the end is upon us.”