Page 101 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

Scorching sun rays beat down on me as I lay half-asleep, and in the blink of an eye dark shadows eclipse the warmth, covering my shivering body. My eyes fly open, and a sinister chill runs through me.

Amidst the jovial voices surrounding me, I jump to my feet, reaching for the dagger concealed beneath my sleeve. The men standing in front of me chuckle at my panicked state, bearing their pearly white teeth.

I'm ready to unsheathe my hidden blade and fight, but then one of them speaks up and holds his hands outstretched in a placating move. "Hey now," he begins softly, "you're okay." He turns to his friends with a glint in his eye. "Mind if we join you?"

Sheltered under Castanea most of my life, I don't know most of the fae orders that make up Bedlam. I can't make out what these men are, but one thing is for certain—they’re using a glamor to disguise their true faces. I can see it in the way the light shimmers over their skin. I’m sure most people can’t tell, but I’ve perfected glamours to keep the people of Castanea safe for thousands of years. I know it when I see one, just as I know the face in my own mirror.

Eight men with wildly varying appearances stand before me—from the darkest ebony hair to the lightest flaxen locks, they are all exquisite. Clothed in muted hues that somehow manage to remain trendsetting, they seem formidable yet inviting. A sweet and musky scent fills my senses as the waves crash rhythmically behind them. Their low conversations interspersed with occasional laughter makes me wonder—what secrets do these mysterious men hold? Are they uglier than they let on? Some of the less attractive Tolden glamor themselves to appear more attractive when makeup can’t achieve it.

"Okay," I hedge, glancing around the barren beach for anyone else.

We're alone.

The sun-warmed sand shifts beneath my feet as they come closer, the coarse texture scratching my bare toes as they plop down next to my picnic spot. The blond, ruddy-skinned one with a high voice pulls out a flask and thrusts it in my face. I take it slowly, my nose inhaling its contents. A wave of sweet elixir floods my nostrils—the faintest hint of Fae wine, a drink so rare that we have to risk our lives by crossing the Wastelands and entering Convectus for it—though not as rare as absinthe. I take a swig, reveling in the liquid gold that spreads across my mouth like wildfire. The taste is both familiar and foreign, sending shockwaves through my veins as if lit ablaze.

My stomach churns as I feel the brunette's gaze on me. My throat is dry, my heart hammering against my chest.

"Your accent is different," he says, plucking the flask from my grasp and slipping it into his pocket. "Where are you from?"

I struggle to keep a smile on my face as I rack my brain for the rehearsed answer I’d practiced with Wilder. "Oh, I grew up in Sundahlia amongst the humans." The lie sticks like glue on my tongue. "Where are you from?" I hear myself ask before the silence could become too awkward.

The men regard each other with a fierce intensity, their breath quickening as the energy in the air shifts. Their faces morph into a mask of dark menace, and I can almost feel their bloodlust radiating from them in waves.

The red-haired one speaks, his voice ripe with anticipation. "We come from all corners of Bedlam."

"We've seen you around." The blond one steals a piece of cheese from my picnic, grinning.

"Oh?" I squeak. Alarms go off inside me, but I can't put my finger on it. I should get out of here.

I leap to my feet, sand spraying in all directions. My heart pounds as I take a step back, only for someone to wrap their arms around me from behind. I scream and spin around to face him. His inky-black hair nearly glows blue in the sunlight, and the chains draped across his hands sparkle like stars against a night sky.

"Tolden," he snarls at me. "We've been hunting you for months."

My stomach churns with terror, and my chest feels like it's being split in two.

They know about Castanea.

Fury and panic swell within me and I shriek as more hands grab me from behind. "What do you want?" I demand.

I'm outmatched, and I'd rather die than let these men bring me back to Castanea.

"You're going to take us to your little Tolden hideaway," the brunette hisses as he and his friend manhandle me. Chains clink menacingly in their hands.

"Please, why are you doing this?!" I cry, my futile struggles only serving to make them grip on tighter.

"The black market for Tolden hearts has made its name rather well-known," he snarls with cold brutality. "And you're going to be our ticket, girl."

My heart pounds against my ribcage like a wild beast desperate to escape as they drag me away from the beach, towards a fate that's more horrid than death itself. I can't let them find Castanea, my home, my people.

With a wild surge of energy, I wheel around, sending a sharp elbow into the brunette's stomach and a well-placed kick to the blond one's shin. The two crash to the ground with a howl of agony, while their comrades swarm around me like a plague of locusts.

I summon my inner phoenix, feeling its fire blaze through my veins and it carries me up into the air with wings of flame. But before I can make my escape, an iron chain snatches at my feathers, yanking me back down to the scorching sand below.

Rage builds inside me until I'm filled with a seething fury; flames lick out of my mouth in an inferno that boils the sand beneath my feet and sends the attackers scrambling for cover in panic. With time precious, I use my power to fling balls of pure fire at them, driving them further away as I plan my next move.

These people have been following me for months. If they find their way into Castanea, all my people are at risk—we've been hidden away for millennia, away from the werewolves who can use our hearts for their cure.

My heart lurches in my chest as I realize what must be done. Innocents depend on me, and I can't let them down no matter the cost. Without another thought, I descend towards the sand and shift into my fae form. Fury courses through my veins and I grit my teeth with determination.

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