MasukFor a thousand years, the city of Crescent Falls has survived beneath the shadow of an ancient savior. Each century, a man is chosen as an offering to Sariyah—the being said to have once driven demons from the world. When Bastion, the man Ember loves, is taken after daring to refuse her, Ember’s grief turns into defiance, and she vows to bring him home no matter the cost. Her search forces her into an uneasy alliance with Orion St. James, a dangerously charming immortal with a violent past and secrets tied to Sariyah herself. Bound together by a magic neither of them wants nor understands, Ember and Orion are drawn into a hidden war beneath the city—one involving cultists, monsters, and an ancient order known as the Watchers. As Crescent Falls begins to fracture, Ember experiences unsettling visions that hint her bloodline is far more entangled with Sariyah than anyone ever suspected. Strange new powers awaken within her, blurring the line between protector and destroyer, while enemies gather and old loyalties are tested. With the city on the brink of collapse and unseen forces moving in the shadows, Ember must decide how far she is willing to go to save Bastion—and whether becoming something darker is the only way to stop an evil that has ruled unchallenged for centuries. Because some thrones are not inherited. They are taken.
Lihat lebih banyakPrologue
The sky burned red as fire rained down on the city of Celestial Falls. Thousands of large leathery wings flapped blocking out most of the light. The city felt as if it was midnight in the middle of the day. The roars of the beasts were deafening as they swooped down grabbing anyone who was unfortunate enough to be on the streets. People screamed in agony as their loved ones and children were taken never to be seen again. Celestial Falls had been a quiet place to live before the portal opened and the creatures arrived. One day they were happily going on with their lives and in an instant, they were living in a city of fire and blood. They came when the portal opened, demons, beasts, and shadows that appeared directly from nightmares. They poured from the mountains like a sickness, crawling down through the trees dragging darkness behind them. Crops rotted in their wake. Churches burned in their unholy fire, and no prayer could stop the hunger coming in waves. The people begged for mercy; none came. Not until she arrived. Sariyah. She stepped from the heart of the Black Woods, alone and cloaked in shadows, as the city writhed in what would have been its final hour. The skies split above her. The monsters turned toward her with open jaws and dripping claws. She did not raise a weapon; she raised her hand. Shadows formed from her fingertips. With a whisper the air turned to ash. The demons screamed, shadows peeling from their forms as they dissolved into nothing. The ground split, the sky howled. Every creature that hunted in the name of darkness was banished. When the smoke cleared, she stood alone at the edge of a ruined temple. Her skin untouched, her eyes black as the void between the stars. Her dark hair flowing as if blown by wind that wasn’t there. The people bowed to her and wept in gratitude, she only smiled. “I have delivered you from this evil,” she said. “And I offer my protection to this city. I will keep the darkness that stirs at bay, but all things have a price.” She would sit on the Obsidian Throne in the Black Spire Castle and an offering would be made. Every hundred years, on the blood moon, one man would be given to her. He would be hers, body and soul for all eternity. The people, desperate and grateful agreed. The first offering came willingly, seeing it as an honor. A war orphan who believed her to be a goddess. He kissed her hand before the gates closed behind them. They heard his screams for three days. The second offering tried to run. The city guards dragged him to her feet. The third was a priest who believed he could pray her away. He could not. And so, the centuries passed. Celestial Falls rebuilt, not with stone, but with blood and sacrifice. The monsters never returned; the crops never failed. The city grew proud, prosperous, and untouched. All she asked was obedience, all she took was one man every hundred years. No one spoke of what she did with them. Until the tenth offering refused and the fire she once saved them from began to rise again.EmberThey burned incense in the fitting chamber to make it smell like roses. It does not hide the scent of fear. The palace hums outside the door, servants rushing, metal clinking, distant laughter rehearsed for a celebration no one believes in. Every corridor feels tighter now, the walls closer, as if the city itself is holding its breath for my binding.Two guards escort me inside, one remains by the door, the other leaves. Indira waits near the window, hands folded, eyes lowered. She does not bow. The door shuts with a heavy click. Silence swells between us. I stand in the center of the room while she circles me, measuring without touching.“You’ve lost weight,” she murmurs.“I’ve lost sleep.”Her mouth almost curves, almost. The dress rests on a mannequin behind her, black silk layered over something deeper. Ember red flickers beneath the outer sheen when the light strikes it. Gold embroidery spills down the bodice in intricate sigils, Sariyah’s chosen crest, altered just enough
OrionIt’s been two nights since Ember left with the knowledge of the prophecy carved into her heart. She hasn’t come back. Which means she’s thinking, she’s planning, and we are running out of time.Lazriel stands at the center of the cell tonight, cloak removed, sleeves pushed to his forearms. The torchlight flickers over old scars etched into his skin, sigils branded there long before I met him. The others are silent. Caelan watches from the bars, jaw tight.I lean back against the stone wall of my cell, arms crossed, pretending calm. I am not calm.“You’re certain this will work?” Caelan asks quietly.“No,” Lazriel replies. Honest. As always. He kneels and begins drawing a circle onto the dungeon floor using crushed bone ash and something darker, something that smells faintly of burnt myrrh and grave soil. The sigils are precise, and old. Older than the Gate itself.“You’re not actually killing anyone for this,” I say.His mouth twitches slightly. “Not tonight.”At the far end of
OrionThe dungeon feels smaller tonight, like the walls are listening. Seren sits pale but steady beside Corin, who hasn’t moved more than an inch away from her since the prophecy. Bram paces, Caelan stands near the bars like he could tear them down if anger alone were enough.Lazriel is the only one who looks calm. I hate him a little for that. “We’re running out of time,” he says quietly.“No,” Corin snaps. “We’re running out of options. That’s different.” Her hand rests on the hilt of her blade, knuckles white.The words still echo in my head. Shadow must kill Flame.“Say it,” Bram mutters suddenly. “Let’s just say it out loud so we can all collectively hate it.”No one moves. Lazriel’s gaze shifts to me. “The ritual requires Flame alive,” he says evenly. “If Ember dies before the Gate fully binds to her, the connection destabilizes.”Caelan turns slowly. “You’re not suggesting—”“Yes,” Lazriel says. Silence slams down.Corin rises to her feet in one smooth motion. “Absolutely not.
OrionThe dungeon doors groan open like the castle itself is tired of pretending this place isn’t a grave. Chains scrape stone. I’m already on my feet before I see him. Bloodied and bruised. Clothes torn like they’d been halfway ripped off his body and then decided he wasn’t worth finishing. His hair, once immaculate, dramatic, infuriatingly perfect, hangs loose and damp with sweat and blood. Lazriel. For half a second, I don’t recognize him. Then he lifts his head and smirks.“Well,” he rasps, voice wrecked but unmistakably him, “this is not how I imagined our reunion. I was hoping for applause.”The guards shove him forward. He stumbles. I lunge instinctively—but Caelan is already there. Caelan catches him like his body moved before his mind could argue.“Easy,” Caelan says, furious and shaking, hands gripping Lazriel’s arms like he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he lets go. “I’ve got you.”Lazriel laughs weakly. “You always do.”That does it. Caelan pulls him close, forehead pressing
EmberThe room smells like smoke and crushed roses. The fire in the hearth is low, dying embers glowing red beneath blackened logs. Bastion stands too close, so close I can feel the heat of him, the tension coiled tight beneath his silk and steel. His jaw is clenched, eyes bright with something sha
EmberBastion is almost smiling as he leads me through the hallways towards the dungeons. He holds me hand pulling me along as if he cannot wait to get there.“You’ll like this,” he says as we descend into the dungeons, his hand warm around mine, his thumb brushing my knuckles like this is a kindne
EmberAzrael stands at the right hand of the throne. Not beside me. Not behind me. Sariyah’s fingers curl lazily around the armrest, dark metal biting into her skin, and Azrael leans close to murmur something meant only for her. I can’t hear the words, but I see the angle of his mouth, the faint sm
BastionShe stands at the window again. Always looking outward, like the world beyond the castle walls is still whispering to her. Like something out there is calling her name and she’s pretending not to hear it. It makes my jaw tighten. I tell myself it’s nothing. Queens look at their cities. Brid












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