The only way to beat death is to chase it.
Alyana Barron is tired of living a secluded life apart from society, hiding her magic from watching eyes. When a nobleman offers Aly the chance to train as a Master Sorcerer, secrets hidden in her past will come to light and she’ll have to fight to keep her safety and guard her heart.
About the Author
C. F. E. Black loves to get swept away in books, both reading and writing them. When she’s not writing or chasing her son, she’s teaching high schoolers and trying her best to be a light in their lives. She lives in beautiful north Alabama with her superhero husband, sons, and fur-family. Connect with her and find free stories at http://www.cfeblack.com.
Ends March 30, 2022
To Pull from his Truthwell had been a dream she’d kept tucked away in the parts of her mind where her darkest secrets lurked.
Hands held high, she closed her eyes, felt with her magic, and dove.
His depths were sun-bright, electrifying. The current of his Truthwell surged around her consciousness, filling it—overtaking it. She’d practiced this, trained hard to overcome the bone-deep want that yanked her down into the infinite reaches of his energy. For a moment, she feared she would lose the battle and dive too deep, Pull too hard. The light of his Truthwell was mysterious and beautiful. Too beautiful to see and not desire.
The Master Sorcerer was one who could cut off the temptation to Pull until there was nothing left but a corpse. Reaching mastery wasn’t about having the best or the strongest magic, though only the Masters could move and transmute rather than heat and cool; instead, mastery was about beating temptation. It was about control.
For a moment, a dangerous moment, she allowed herself to be fully immersed within the king’s Truthwell before directing his energy toward a task. In that moment, Aly sensed her mind slipping into an abyss and reeled herself back.
Stop or you’ll kill him too. Her reason returned and she yanked hard on his truth, and with it she uprooted the flowering tree by the bank as if it were a dandelion.
As the tree hung in midair, raining black dirt across the grass and the water, Aly stole a glance at Red. He still stood upright—a good sign—but the cocky tilt to his head was gone. He stared at the tree, a loose smile on his face.
Good, she thought, I was getting tired of that scowl.
Excerpted from Blade of Ash by C.F.E. Black, Copyright © 2022 by C.F.E. Black. Published by Hillcity Press.