Page 52 of Haunted Crowns
Adrian didn’t flinch. He sat at the long table near the window, boots propped against the carved edge, arms crossed, watching Stephan with the steady calm of someone who’d seen him like this too many times before.
“You done?” Adrian said flatly.
Stephan didn’t answer, his chest heaving as Rurik’s words replayed in his mind.
Do you think she ever screamed your name, Dragov?
Adrian exhaled slowly and stood. “Rurik’s probably still nursing his spine after that hit. Whatever he was trying to prove, you buried it under his own arrogance.”
“That’s not the point,” Stephan muttered. His voice was brittle. “He said her name. Likethat. In front of everyone.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “And you made him bleed for it.”
Stephan leaned against the desk, head bowed, teeth clenched until his jaw trembled. He knew what Rurik was doing. Recognized it the moment the words left his mouth, cruel, designed to cut deep. And yet, knowing didn’t stop the damage.It never did, because doubt didn’t need truth to survive. It just needed a whisper, a crack, and then it would spread like rot.
His stomach twisted, voice dropping lower. “What if it was true?” Adrian’s stance stiffened. “What if she looked at him the way she used to look at me?” Stephan whispered, eyes dark.
Adrian crossed the room in two strides. “Don’t do this to yourself,” he said sharply. “You’re not just doubting her…you’re insulting her.” Stephan flinched but didn’t look up. “She is not that kind of woman, Stephan. You should know better than anyone else. She doesn’t give lightly, and when she does, it’s because shechooses. And she chose you. Not because of expectation, or circumstance, but because she wanted to.”
Stephan nodded slowly. “I know.”
“But?” Adrian pressed.
“But knowing doesn’t stop the ache.” And that ache, of never being enough, was his curse, long before her. Long before Kareon.
Adrian let out a slow breath. “You’ve got a gift for dragging yourself through hell.”
Stephan’s mouth twitched, the ghost of something bitter and broken.
Adrian nudged a fallen book toward him with his boot. “So are you done destroying Summit property, or should I invoice you?”
A quiet, choked sound escaped Stephan’s throat. Almost a laugh. Then a cold, unnatural breeze threaded through the room. No windows open. No doors ajar. The wall sconce flickered sideways, then stilled.
The back of his neck prickled, his spine tensing. A whisper—not a voice, but the feeling of one—brushed the edge of his mind, like breath against thought. He turned, but there was no one.
Then came the footsteps, fast, closing in.
Theon burst inside, pale and breathless. “They took her.”
Adrian stiffened. Stephan stilled. The words didn’t make sense. His mind rejected them. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else.
Slowly, too slowly, he turned to Theon. “What?”
Theon’s chest heaved, his breath still uneven, as if he had run straight through the halls without stopping. His expression was tight, pulled between rage and something closer to fear. “They came into the hall,” he said. “The Obsidian Guard. They called it conspiracy.”
Stephan’s stomach dropped, but Theon wasn’t finished.
“They handcuffed her,” he forced out, voice raw. “Dragged her. In front of everyone.”
The words landed like a blow, striking deep. The walls around him felt smaller, his breath became shallow. They had taken her. His Eris.
His mind snapped to Avaristo. For years, the Firstblood had been the final barrier between Avaristo and total control over Goznoth. He tested, provoked, manipulated, but the Dragov kings held firm, countering with political prowess, military force, and legacy-born influence. Diplomacy failed. Bribery failed. Intimidation failed. But now, he had found the crack.
Eris.
She was a Dragov by name but an anomaly in action, noble and unpredictable, straddling both worlds. To Avaristo, she was a weapon. Her arrest was a warning, a challenge. He had drawn his line, and Stephan knew this was war.
His chair scraped back, palms slamming the desk. “There’s no time to waste.” His gaze swept to Adrian and Theon. "Gather the war council. Mobilize the Royal Guard. I want every unit on high alert. This could be a show of power, a message meant to intimidate us, or the start of something far worse. Either way, we prepare for both."
