Page 213 of Wings of Ash & Flame
By luck, she had kept it hidden this long. But luck hadn’t kept her alive. Her rage had. Her refusal to break, to bow—that was what saved her.
The vampires had taken everything, everyone she’d ever loved. And she was done being their victim.
Her family was lost, but she was not the helpless princess they had died to protect. She was something else entirely—something forged in the fires of loss and tempered by years of survival. The girl who once tried on her mother’s crown was gone. In her place stood a woman who had learned to kill without hesitation.
Anger had been her armor, hatred her weapon. For so long she thought they made her monstrous. But they made her unbreakable.
She was done running from who she had become. Done apologizing for the choices that had kept her breathing. Every lie she’d told, every throat she’d cut, every compromise she’d made—it all led to this moment.
To her finally choosing. Finally accepting herself.
Familiar words coiled around her like a lifeline.
You are brave, strong, determined—and the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. You are exactly who you’re supposed to be. This was the journey you were meant to take.
This was who she was meant to be. Not the sheltered royal, but the survivor who’d walked through Umbra’s seven hells and emerged with fire in her veins.
She couldn’t reverse time. Couldn’t undo her mistakes or choices. But she wouldn’t apologize for them either. Every step had led her here—toward becoming someone who could face what was coming.
She was both the girl who’d dreamed of crowns and the woman who’d learned to take them.
From ashes to flames. Ashes to fire. She would rise not despite what she had become, but because of it.
The Voidshade Sovereign would burn for what he’d done.
For the lives he’d shattered. For her parents. For Blake. For Elodie. For Professor Ross. For every soul he’d dragged into this war and darkness.
Aurelia needed a queen willing to wade through blood to build something better.
She saw it now: the answers had always been within her, but it had taken walking through darkness to understand her own light.
They had died so she could become exactly who she was—a queen forged in fire, tempered by loss, and absolutely fucking ruthless when it came to protecting what was hers.
And that was nothing to be ashamed of.
No more apologies. No more self-doubt. No more pretending the crown didn’t fit because she had crawled through blood to reach it.
When the Voidshade Sovereign’s kingdom of shadows crumbled, she would rebuild her home.
A sanctuary for any mortal—any soul—who had ever been silenced, cast aside, mistreated, or forced to feel less than. All would have a seat at Aurelia’s table. She would make sure of it.
And she would build it on the ashes of her enemy.
Pain shattered the silence. It began as a dull throb, then bloomed into fire—an insistent, merciless burn that seared through her. In the gloom, a red light flared.
The ache tore her eyes open. Alaire lay crumpled on the ground, each breath a wheeze as her airways fought the venom still lingering in her blood. Ross’s lifeless body lay a few feet away.
The light was coming from the ruby ring on her finger. Heat gnawed at her skin as its intensity ratcheted higher. She gasped, clawing to rip it off, but it clung to her flesh, fused to her.
Distantly, she was aware of the hybrids circling. But the fire consuming her blood was all that mattered. It crescendoed, bright and blinding, until she released a guttural scream.
There are moments when breaking is necessary—not as an end, but as a beginning. To reclaim who we were always meant to be.
A slow stir of power unfurled within her. She’d touched this magic before, brushed its edges. But this—oh, this wassomuch more.
This wasn’t new power awakening. This was claiming her birthright. The ancient magic of the Vallorian line, unbound at last. The spells her parents had cast to protect her were broken by Professor Ross’s final breath and her own acceptance of who she had always been—both queen and survivor.
Power surged through her, familiar as her heartbeat, wild as the rage that had kept her alive. Molten and glacial, rushing like rivers of ice and fire, it filled every corner of her being. Solflara’s essence blazed within her, a fire that had waited years to burn bright again.
