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  When his finger accidentally brushed her bare arm, he pulled his hand back quickly, inhaling sharply like her skin had burned him. She clenched her fists, hoping it blistered. He led with the knife next, and she was helpless to stop the cold bite of the metal pushed into her forearm. Swirling, golden blood beaded to the surface of the wound, running in rivulets down to her fingertips.

  The king’s eyes glowed with not just wonder, but power.

  Flame of the Blood

  Queenie A. Marie

  Copyright © 2023 Queenie A. Marie

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Maya Lucas, Patrick Hansen

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  I owe it all to you.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Foreword

  Pronunciation Guide

  Content Warnings

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Part Two

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Part Three

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Part Four

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Part Five

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Part Six

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Part Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Foreword

  This is a story that has been in the making for the better part of three years. The world is very much set in a 19th century, white male supremacist society, and this was very much my intention as the author. I find importance in drawing attention to the struggles many people of different genders, races, sexualities, religions, and upbringings face not just once in their lifetimes, but in their everyday lives. For this reason, you may note some prominent themes of gender equality, women empowerment, discrimination due to race, colonisation, and a spotlight on certain mental health conditions not often represented in the fantasy genre.

  It is my hope that, by including these concepts, the words on these pages will leave an imprint on you that spurs you into action. Because it is one thing to believe in something, and quite another to act on those beliefs.

  Pronunciation Guide

  Names

  Alaric Bernthal (A-lar-rick Burn-thall)

  Ambria Ellymae (Am-bree-a Elle-uh-may)

  Kerensa Na'labesc (Ker-en-za Nah-la-besk)

  Shaila Ravyn (Shay-la Ra-vin)

  Phoebe Ravyn (Fee-bee Ra-vin)

  Evanora (Ev-a-nora)

  Places

  Lithera (Li-th-air-a)

  Ravynia (Ra-vin-nia)

  Cebrev (Sa-brev)

  The Ohrivon (Or-ree-von)

  Farrador Castle (Fair-ra-door)

  Words in Erese (air-ree-s)

  Aevym Saquis (Ay-vim Sak-wee-es)

  Corruna Tsurich (Cor-rune-na Su-riche)

  Stell Imbrym (S-tel Im-brim)

  Raetpar (Ray-it-par)

  Visi lo hifuar (Vi-zee low hiph-fu-are)

  Content Warnings

  - Sexual assault (attempted rape)

  - Verbal manipulation/abuse

  - Mental illnesses (anxiety, depression, PTSD, panic attacks, flashbacks

  - Brief mention of suicide/self-harm

  - Sexism and misogyny

  - Racism and mild discrimination

  - Blood and violence

  - Kidnapping

  - Death

  - Recurring crass language ("hell", "ass")

  - Emotional abuse/trauma

  - Fire

  - Plague

  - Emesis

  Prologue

  If she could go back and do it all over again, she would.

  Though she would never admit it to anyone, even if everything ended the same, she would still only have one regret in her entire life.

  But time was not hers to regret.

  What she would give for one more moment with her lover, a last conversation with her mother, to say a proper good-bye to her sisters, or a chance to memorize every detail of her daughter’s face.

  Yet, on the day of reckoning of the great war between witch and human, Gianna Ravyn had a different fate.

  “General Gianna.”

  Staring into the fire she shared with her coven sisters, Gianna didn’t bother to ask the scout to continue the message she had been sent to deliver from the border of Ravynia.

  Gianna could feel her Second’s hard emerald stare next to her.

  The buzz of energy in the air was not lost on her. She knew what it meant.

  The scout uttered, “The Lithians are here,” and everything stilled. The whole world balanced on whatever order Gianna gave.

  This was her purpose—not just as General, but as the daughter of Her Serenity, the Witch Queen. To protect her people and her queendom until her very last breath. She felt the power, the magic thrumming in her veins. Ready to carry out her duty.

  Until death.

  And that was her command. With two words, the Ravyn witches mobilized to fight for their home against these relentless oppressors. Eight of her coven sisters followed suit, strapping on swords and daggers, slinging bows on their backs, and tapping into their magic.

  Gianna turned to meet Shaila’s jaded eyes, refusing to be the first to speak.

  But Shaila was all too prepared to break that silence. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do.”

  A muscle in Shaila’s jaw feathered. “You realize what could be waiting on that battlefield. Or should I say who?”

  “Something must have gone wrong,” Gianna rebutted easily.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know him better than you.”

  “What if you don’t really know him at all?”

  Gianna stood swiftly. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  One of the most frustrating things about her best friend was that Shaila never gave away her emotions. There were some hints she couldn’t hide, like the tick of her jaw or flash of her eyes, but she didn’t get angry. She didn’t yell or shout or flail her arms. She didn’t cry and she hardly ever smiled.

  No, Gianna was the one who did all that.

  “Things change,” Shaila said in a low voice. “Men are greedy and selfish—”

  “People change, Shaila. How many times will we have this argument before you understand?” Gianna pleaded.

  “I do understand—”

  She glared. “You haven’t even tried.”

  Shaila clenched her jaw, staying silent.

  “This discussion is over. Maybel is safe with my mother, and we have a battle to fight.” She walked away, her coven following at her back.

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  The army reached the border when the sun touched its peak.

  Gianna stood with her coven at the head of her people, scores of witches and their covens prepared to defend their home as the human army marched toward them. They carried purple and silver banners and adorned the colours of Lithera on their armor. The weapons they borne gave Gianna the impression that they were not here to show any sort of mercy. The sharp scent of iron was heavy in the air, intertwined with a cloying sweetness that choked her as she inhaled.

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  Shaila stepped up to her side. “They have—”

  “Weapons. I know.” An alloyed southern breeze filled her auburn hair as Gianna considered her options. “We can’t turn back now. The army is already upon us.”

  Her Second grabbed her arm. “Gianna,” she said sternly.

  “The battle has begun,” Gianna snapped.

  Shaila shot back, “Do you hear the din yet?”

  Her lip curled. “I am the General of these covens united, and I go to fight with them until we die or are victorious. Whichever comes first.” Dark blue eyes gazing ahead to the purple and silver lining the horizon, she added, “You cannot deny me my duty.”

  Shaila sighed, frustrated. “You have more than just the duty of General to our people, Gianna. Stay safe inside the city with your mother and daughter. Please.”

  Gianna felt her heart contract at her dearest friend’s concern—though she couldn’t really hear it in her voice, she knew it was there and that it came from a place of great love. “The city won’t be safe for much longer if I don’t endure alongside my people.” Reaching for Shaila’s hand, she said, “I have to do this. To protect Maybel and her legacy. You don’t have to understand, you don’t even have to try to understand. Just trust me.”

  Shaila studied her, face impassive. After a long moment, she blew out a breath, the only sign of defeat she would show. “I swear to the Mother below, you better not get yourself killed.”

  Gianna squeezed her hand, looking out at the army that was moments away from being upon them. “This is our legacy, Shaila. And I will see it through.”

  Closing her eyes, she dropped Shaila’s hand and plunged deep into the magic within herself. She pushed it through every vein in her body, her heart surging with the powerful feeling.

  Her cobalt blue eyes snapped open. Our legacy. And then she unleashed her magic on the Lithian army.

  With her signal, the witches assembled behind her streamed forward to engage in battle. Soon enough magic erupted from every which way, swords clashed, and bodies fell—more human than witch initially. Red and blue blood misted in the air and pooled in the dirt, tainting the wind weaving through the plain.

  Gianna wielded her magic to suffocate and incapacitate any soldiers in close proximity, not yet bothering to draw a weapon. She was sure she looked more menacing the longer she battled, crimson blood spattering across her face and her very skin aglow from the use of her magic.

  Her coven sisters stayed close as they always did, even as they fought separate battles. Gianna glimpsed Fabula and Freya to her right, the twin sisters fighting back-to-back with trained skill. Breena, Calypso, and Endora took on tens of soldiers at a time, felling them at twice the rate at which they came forward. She caught a momentary flash of Verana’s scarlet hair before she dissipated again, and Lorelei fired off arrows in rapid succession nearby without ever missing a mark. Shaila and Nissa kept as close as possible to either side of Gianna, her Second and Third loyal to a fault. All nine of them smeared with blood similar to her, the blue of witches and red of humans alike.

  Two human soldiers rushed Gianna, and she barely had time to whip out her sword before the first one was upon her.

  He swung, but she feinted and made a quick slash for his throat. Blood spurted and the first soldier fell to the ground within a matter of moments, corpse already begun to cool.

  Gianna barely had time to bask in her first bloody kill before the other soldier lashed out, lifting his sword high in front of her and bringing it down in one swift movement. She threw up her own sword to block him and shoved his blade back and away. Her strength and momentum forced him off balance and she seized the chance to drive her sword through his chest. He joined his dead comrade facedown in the grass.

  Out of nowhere, a dagger flew through the air towards her, and without time to conjure a magic shield, she pivoted out of the way with her quick reflexes instead. The weapon still managed to clip her cheek, the cut stunningly painful. Gianna reached up to touch her fingers to the wound, momentarily dazed as blue blood trickled down her face.

  Another soldier ran toward her while her defenses were down. She sloppily parried his attack and ducked around him, barely missing the slice of his knife. Now behind him, Gianna didn’t hesitate before cleaving her sword down his spine in one smooth motion. His body toppled to the ground.

  The zing of a bow punctured the air just as she turned around. Lacking enough time to react, the arrow pierced her shoulder, mere inches from her heart. Pain blinded her, black spots dancing in her vision, and her agonized cry reverberated in her ears as the world rushed up to meet her knees. She could hear someone scream her name, but there was poison running through her blood, sending shocks through her body. That cloyingly sweet smell from before filled her nostrils. In the midst of dying, she identified the scent for its true nature. Riabane. A bloom of death, dangerous and lethal, a poison in itself. Death’s loyal maiden, some called the flower. And now she was in the grips of its mercilessness.

  “Gianna! Open your eyes, Mother damn you!”

  She cracked her eyelids only as much as the pain would allow. Splitting her lips to speak, she was outraged when no words came out.

  “Help me carry her.” Shaila’s voice echoed through her.

  Then Gianna felt her body lift, arms slung around her Second and Third’s shoulders, her entire anatomy protesting in excruciating pain as they dragged her away from the din of the battle.

  Her mind was numb with the very real truth that she would die today.

  “Don’t.” She heard Shaila say, as though she knew exactly where Gianna’s thoughts were straying. “It is not your day to die, Gianna. Not today.”

  A bolt of pain shot through her, and her legs spasmed as she screamed. Shaila and Nissa laid her down, and Nissa grasped the arrow still protruding from Gianna’s shoulder, making swift and clean work of removing it while Gianna suppressed another cry of absolute agony. Nissa’s hands came away stained black from her blood. A whimper escaped her lips at the sight of it.

  Fabula and Freya appeared at the edge of Gianna’s vision. Their words floated down to her as if from far away. “Endora and Lorelei are dead. Along with hundreds of others,” said Freya in her smooth, soft tone.

  She felt a pit of grief and fear yawn open inside of her. How many others would perish today? How many covens would go extinct?

  Now Fabula spoke up in her brutally honest way. “We must order a retreat. We have to evacuate while there’s still enough of us to have a fighting chance in the future.”

  Gianna rallied her strength enough to sit up, bracing herself against a boulder. She batted away Shaila’s and Nissa’s protests, even as her shoulder screamed in anguish. The Ravyns were looking to her even still—maybe now more than ever—for strength and order. She had to decide in this moment what was the best way to protect her people and their future. Lives were at stake, witches’ lives, if she did nothing to stop the Lithians. “Inform the queen,” she commanded through gritted teeth.

  The twins nodded and disappeared without another word.

  “Now help me up.”

  Shaila’s nostrils flared. “Gianna, no—”

  “That was not a suggestion,” she snarled.

  “You’ll kill yourself,” Nissa tried, her straw-coloured hair falling into her face.

  Gianna had to clench her teeth together so hard she thought her jaw might snap, simply to stop herself from crying. “My situation is already hopeless. The arrow was poisoned, and I can feel it racing towards my heart. I cannot stop its course, and neither can you.”

  Shaila’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession. “Nissa, go find a healwitch—”

  “Raetpar, Shaila,” Gianna cut her off angrily. “There is no point. But there is one more thing I need to do before the end. And if you won’t help me,” she glared at her sisters, “I’ll do it myself.”

  Taking a deep breath, she hoisted herself up, relying heavily on the boulder. She felt weakness seeping into her bones, her knees beginning to shake. Her magic was receding every second, the poison sapping up that part of her as well. She clung desperately to what was left, channeling it into her hands. The energy popped and sparked in the atmosphere as Gianna pushed her hand to the sky, releasing a spurt of magic that arced across the sky all the way to the very front lines.