Page 58 of Haunted Crowns
“Leave Stephan out of this,” she snapped. “You’re not even worthy to say his name.” Her hands shook with fury.
“Oh? Touched a nerve?” He sighed, mock-sympathetic. “Poor boy. Shackled to a girl with no loyalty and even less shame. I told him, you know.”
The words landed like a blow. She barely managed to speak. “Told him what?”
“At the Shadow Court match. Yesterday.” His tone oozed satisfaction. “Told him you weren’t worth his time. Not after the wolves marked you.”
The world tilted. Stephan—his fury, his silence, the way he had fought like every strike was a scream. She had felt it then, without knowing why. Now she did. She saw the poison Rurik had planted and the weight Stephan had carried alone, all because of her. Her chest tightened from unbearable guilt.
“You miserable coward,” she spat. “You couldn’t touch him, so you went after me.”
His smirk faltered, only for a breath, but she saw it. Then it twisted.
“Oh, I touched him,” he said, voice venomous. “Right where it hurts.” He stepped closer, eyes alight with cruel satisfaction. “And now I’ll watch him break from knowing he couldn’t save you.”
Then his emotions pierced her, ice through marrow, sharp and merciless. Rage, rivalry, resentment. Old wounds, humiliation, the sting of being less. And beneath it all, a silence thick enough to choke.
She staggered under the weight of it, but he was already moving.
Rurik drew a sleek black device from his coat, its surface threaded with faint red circuits—an Obsidian surveillance orb. He swiped a thumb over it, and it powered on with a low, ominous hum. Tilting it with practiced ease, he angled the lens until his smug reflection stared back in the dark glass. The glow steadied, malicious.
“Shall we show your boyfriend what he’s been missing?”
Eris inhaled sharply. “No… Don’t.”
She lunged, fingertips grazing the edge of the orb, but Rurik struck, sharp and sudden. Her head snapped sideways, pain searing her cheek as blood welled on her lip, warm and metallic.
She tasted it, swallowed hard, and steadied her breath. Then she glared at him, full of what she couldn’t yet do. “There is no corner of this world I won’t find you in. No god that will stop me from making you bleed.”
Rurik barely glanced at her. Her threat meant nothing to him yet. He wasn’t interested in resistance, only in display, so he angled the orb.
“Greetings, Stephan,” he drawled, voice thick with mockery. “Remember yesterday, when you said I’d never touch what wasn’t mine?” He tilted his head, savoring the echo while the orb captured his smug face. Then, slowly, the frame widened, revealing Eris pinned against the wall, her breath shallow, bodyrigid. Rurik’s hand clamped around her arm, claiming her like a prize. She gasped, face contorting as the pressure bit deep. “Well,” he drawled, smirking toward the orb, “check this out.” He leaned in slightly, purring, “Isn’t she gorgeous?”
Eris flinched and turned her face away from the lens. Her voice cracked. “Don’t do this. Please.” Tears slipped free as her breath turned ragged.
Rurik laughed, visibly pleased with himself. “Sorry, Stephan.” He turned the orb back to his own face. “Gotta put this away now. You understand.”
Another swipe of his thumb. The glow dimmed, and then he sent it. The orb fell silent, its signal cut. Stephan would see everything. And that was the part Rurik enjoyed most.
Eris’s world tilted. Her breath caught, strangled in her chest. But none of it mattered, because all she could see, all she could feel, was Stephan. The thought of him watching her like this, helpless, shattered her. Something inside tore at knowing Rurik hadn’t just humiliated her, he’d made Stephan suffer; that was the deepest cut.
Her body slackened. For a heartbeat, she gave in to despair. Then, deep inside, the silence shifted, not with hope, not yet, but with fury, coiled and waiting. He would fucking pay for this.
She barely registered Rurik’s hand at her jaw, his fingers tightening, forcing her still.
Let him think she was broken. Let him believe this was done. Because when she rose, she would make damn sure he bled for every second of it.
His body pressed against hers for control as his thumb dragged across her lips, smearing the faint trickle of blood from cracked skin. His eyes darkened with hunger. She saw it in his gaze, what he intended to take. Then his focus dropped. He saw what was on his thumb, truly saw it, and his tongue flicked out.
The moment her blood touched his tongue, something in him broke. His pupils dilated. A tremor seized him as his grip tightened. Then, hoarse and half-delirious:
“Marvelous.”
He inhaled sharply, as if tasting something rare. Exquisite. It wasn’t mercy that stopped him. It was madness—the madness of her blood.
And then he snapped. His grip crushed her. “Firstbloods like you,” he murmured, voice fevered, distant. “Only useful to bleed.”
Eris barely had time to react. His head dipped. His lips dragged from hers to her throat. Then he bit her. His fangs drove deep, wild and unrestrained. Agony exploded through her, consuming. Her spine arched. Her fingers clawed at his chest, useless. He drank too fast, too deep, too much. Her pulse thrashed, then faltered.
