Annie_Bella_8842

“They burned my kingdom to steal my crown. Now I’ll burn their world to take it back.”

Disguised as a street thief in the fire-walled city of Solara, Ember lives a life of shadows—until one mistake changes everything.

When she steals a forbidden crown from the royal vaults, Ember awakens a dangerous fire magic—and a past she’s tried to forget. She is the lost heir to the Flame Throne, daughter of a betrayed queen, and bearer of a cursed bloodline.

Now hunted by the tyrant king and haunted by the power of the Crown of Cinders, Ember’s only hope lies in the hands of a rebel mage with ice in his veins and secrets in his eyes. He should be her enemy. But his touch cools the flames that threaten to consume her—and sparks something even more dangerous than fire.

As war brews and kingdoms burn, Ember must choose:
Claim the love that could break her curse—or embrace the crown that could destroy them both.

Crown Of Cinder

The fire had died down to glowing embers by the time Ember returned to the tent she shared with Kael on missions—though neither of them had ever used it for sleep until now.

She stood in the entrance, unsure of the unspoken rules that seemed to shift after a kiss like that.

Would he regret it in the morning?

Kael pulled the flap open wider from inside, shirt half-buttoned, firelight washing over his chest and jaw. His hair was damp, like he'd just poured water over himself to cool down. Ember's breath caught.

"You were gone a while," he said gently.

"I haven't figured everything out yet," she admitted. "But I know I didn't imagine it. That kiss. The way it felt."

"You didn't imagine a thing." His voice was quiet, raw.

She stepped inside. The air shifted instantly. The space between them grew heavy with everything left unsaid.

"I don't know what this means," she said, her voice trembling a little. "We're fighting a war. I'm trying to become someone worth following. And you—there are still things you're not telling me."

Kael's jaw tensed. "It's not that I don't want to. Some things… they're harder to say out loud than they are to bear alone."

Ember nodded. She knew that feeling too well.

She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the cot, fingers curling in the fabric of the blanket. "I don't need all your secrets, Kael. Not yet. But I need to know that this—" She looked up. "—that you're not pretending. That I'm not a passing storm to you."

Kael stepped forward, kneeling in front of her. "You're not a storm, Ember. You're the flame the darkness fears. You're the only thing that makes me believe there's something worth surviving this for."

She reached out instinctively, cupping his cheek. He leaned into her hand like it was the only soft thing he'd known in years.

"Then stay," she whispered. "Just for tonight. No promises. No pressure. Just… stay."

Kael hesitated for a breath, then climbed onto the cot beside her. They lay down fully clothed, side by side, not touching at first—until Ember shifted closer, head resting on his shoulder, hand pressed to his chest where his heartbeat thundered.

The silence between them was thick but not empty. It pulsed with trust, with the beginning of something too new to name.

"Do you ever think about what life could be after this?" she asked, eyes fixed on the canvas ceiling.

"After the war?" Kael murmured. "Sometimes."

"I see green fields. No smoke. A house with stone walls and windows that don't shatter from shouting. A woman with fire in her eyes and ashes under her fingernails. Maybe a garden she keeps burning on purpose."

Ember smiled. "Sounds like she's dangerous."

They fell into silence again, but it felt different this time—closer. Calmer.

And yet, somewhere outside the tent, Ember's flamebird still circled the camp in her absence, wings pulsing with ember-light.

Meanwhile, in the obsidian palace of Arx Ignis…

The Flame King stood before the Iron Mirror.

Smoke coiled from his fingertips, twisting into the outline of a phoenix before disintegrating.

"She's awakening," he said to the silent chamber. "The fire listens to her now."

A soldier bowed low behind him. "Shall I send the ash riders, Your Majesty?"

"No. Not yet. Let her believe she's safe."

He reached for the obsidian crown on his throne, holding it as if it might burn him.

"She was born from flame. But I forged it."

He turned to the darkness behind the throne where a second shadow emerged—one that had Kael's shape.

"She'll come to me," the king said, "whether by love… or by ruin."

Chapter 22: Like Sparks In The Silence