Page 14 of Haunted Crowns
Eris parted her lips as doubt flickered in her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
His throat felt dry. Then he said it. “It's you, Eris.” The words came out ragged, desperate. His fingers curled against her skin, a touch that lit every nerve in her body. “The only one I’ll ever belong to.”
Eris couldn’t breathe. His words echoed through her bones. The room blurred. Even the air felt close to breaking under the weight of what he’d said.
“You—” Her voice cracked. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Stephan didn’t answer right away. The fire crackled as shadows danced across his face.
“I wrote to you for a year,” she whispered. “And not once—not once—did you tell me you missed me. That you thought of me. That I was not…alone in this. In wanting you.”
His jaw flexed. “Because I didn’t know how. Not like that. Not in letters.” His voice was low, rough. “What I wanted to say... I needed to say to your face. Not scratched out on parchment while you were miles away.” He exhaled sharply, fists clenched on his knees. “A whole year, Eris. And every damn day, I missed you like hell.”
She stared at him, breathless. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked.
“So did I.” Her fingers dug into her knees. “We were idiots,” she said, softer now. “Pining in silence like some tragic ballad.”
He ran a hand through his hair, smiling, raw. Crooked.
“Yes, we were,” he said. “But gods, I would’ve waited another year if it meant hearing you say that back.”
Eris’s breath hitched. A bashful smile pulled at her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—an old, unguarded habit.Her gaze dropped for a beat, cheeks warming. Then, because she still didn’t know how to stay serious with him for long…
“Well,” she said airily, “you’re lucky I didn’t marry while you were gone.”
His brows shot up. “What?”
“General Veylor,” she said, feigning innocence. “That posturing peacock of a man… he was going to propose. Until he was mysteriously reassigned to the Outer Territories.”
He cleared his throat. “What an unfortunate coincidence.”
She tilted her head. “Stephan…”
He gave her a sheepish look but said nothing.
She stared at him. “You didn’t.”
He leaned back slightly and shrugged, far too casual. “I might’ve…nudged the reassignment.”
“You absolute monster.” She shoved his shoulder, lightly. “Sabotaging suitors? Truly?”
“He was a terrible option.”
She laughed. “I hate you.”
That sound, giddy and reckless, split something open in him. He had dreamed of it, starved for it. And now, here it was. He smiled teasingly.
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” she said, her breath catching. “I don’t.”
Their laughter faded, the fire cracked, and the silence that followed was no longer playful. It pulsed, hot. Waiting. He leaned in, not touching, just close enough for her to feel the heat of him, the tension wound tight beneath his skin. His name slipped from her lips like a prayer.
“Stephan…”
His hand lifted, trembling, hovering at her jaw. His gaze dropped to her mouth, as if his wanting were a wound he could no longer bear.
“I keep dreaming you’ll vanish if I touch you.”
