Page 122 of Haunted Crowns
“Why will she not wake?” His gaze snapped, frantic, to Kaelioth.
The shaman only stroked his chin, a slow smirk curling his lips. “Interesting,” Kaelioth murmured, too calm, like a man watching ritual instead of life slipping away. “Part of her is back. I can feel it.” He paused, gaze unreadable. “But it seems she needed you both.”
Both.
Stephan stilled. Kaelioth’s gaze shifted to Kareon. “She will not wake until he brings her.”
Kaelioth exhaled, as if listening to something far beyond the grove. Then a soft, fragile sound broke the stillness.
“Stephan.”
Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was hers. Stephan seized her hand fiercely, threading their fingers as if touch alone could hold her in this world.
“I’m here,” he whispered. He pressed his forehead to her knuckles. “I’m not leaving. Please…come back, my love.”
The Hollow held its breath, and so did he.
Kareon stepped into the mist, and the Hollow slipped away. Ancient pines rose around him like pillars, the air thickening with resin and damp earth. Mist wound through the trunks like something alive, brushing his arms, curling into his breath.
Then he saw her.
Eris stood ahead, unmoving, eyes fixed on the ground. Her shape was seared into him. The slope of her shoulders. The wild fall of auburn curls that once tangled in his fingers. The kind of beauty that never let him rest. He approached without pause, each step final.
When he reached her, he turned her gently to face him. “Eris, look at me.”
She raised her eyes. Green. Wide. Empty.
His jaw tightened. “Why are you here?”
She hesitated. “I came for something,” she said softly. “I just don’t know what.”
Wrong answer.
The emptiness in her voice twisted something deep inside him. Then he saw it—a blade at her hip, untouched. His mouth curved, certain.
“You came to fight.” His voice was low, controlled. “Remember.”
She blinked, her fingers twitching. One hand rose to her temple, but nothing came.
He exhaled sharply, placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave her a firm push, just enough to jolt her instincts awake. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing.
That got her attention. Good.
She needed a reason to rise, not a hand to hold.
He drew his blade in one motion, the steel catching the moonlight, gleaming cold and clean. “You will remember fighting me.”
Her breath caught in irritation, jaw clenching as her posture shifted.
“There you are,” he said, a flicker of something fierce and satisfied in his voice. He nodded toward her blade. “Pick it up, princess. Or I’ll put you down.”
She glared at him and unsheathed the sword in one sharp motion. Even lost, she never backed down from a challenge.
With each strike, something ancient stirred in her chest, something that remembered who she was.
Kareon’s blade met hers again, swift and brutal. The shock surged through his arms as he drove her backward.
“Feel that?” he said. “The rage. The fire. What they failed to kill.”
