Page 71 of Haunted Crowns
Silence followed, taut. For the first time, Raphael hesitated.
Eris’s fingers twitched. She had seen Stephan fight for her before, but this was different. This was defiance without fear. For a moment, her breath caught, but she forced it down. This was not the time for hesitation. This was the time to fight.
Her voice came, seething. "You think that is what I want? That I would destroy my family? Bring Stephan to ruin? If you refuse to end this war, there will never be peace in Goznoth. Your son will inherit ruins, when he could have ruled over a kingdom united."
Raphael’s lips curled. "Peace?" he scoffed. "You speak of peace like it is real. Like it ever lasts." His silver eyes flashed. "There is no peace, Eris. Only survival. Only rulers willing to fight hard enough to keep the world from burning."
Eris’s gaze burned. "For peace to survive, it must be built together. But if you think you can rule without listening…if youbelieve the Lycans will accept exile and submission, then you are nothing but a blind king clinging to a crumbling throne."
For a moment, the room held still, too still. Raphael’s presence darkened. His silver eyes glinted with something dangerous. No one had ever challenged his authority so openly.
"We are not pushing them away," Yori said calmly. "The Obsidian Order is bleeding their land dry. Not us."
Eris inhaled sharply. "That is true," she admitted. "But we let it happen. The Firstbloods stood by while their land was taken. We let their suffering become the price of our indifference."
Raphael’s fingers clawed into the table, his knuckles bone-white. His control was fraying. "This is happening all over again," he spat. "The same arrogance. The same defiance. The same weakness. I will not watch this family suffer a second time." He squeezed his eyes shut, battling something inside himself. Then it snapped. "You should have never been born!"
The room froze. Eris’s breath hitched.
Raphael moved, too fast to think, too fast to stop. Steel flashed as the blade fell, mercilessly.
Then came the clash, metal screaming, sparks lighting the chamber walls. The impact shook the room.
Stephan was there, steel meeting steel. Yori followed, seizing Raphael from behind and restraining him. Eris staggered, her pulse thundering.
Stephan’s sword remained locked against his father’s.
"If you want to kill her," Stephan said, voice lethal, "you will have to go through me."
Raphael’s chest rose and fell in ragged, shuddering breaths, his knuckles still white on the hilt. The room hung suspended.
Raphael’s gaze flickered between Eris, Stephan, and his trembling hands. What had he done?
His grip loosened, the blade dipping. His silver eyes, once cold, now looked haunted. He had acted on fury, on fear, and nearly—
His breath hitched.
Eris stood frozen, her face pale, breath shallow. Words abandoned her, swallowed by the enormity of the moment. She had prepared for Raphael’s scorn, for his anger. But this? Never had she believed he would raise a blade. Her body felt rooted while her mind spun, unable to grasp it.
Then Stephan’s fingers brushed her wrist lightly, as if testing if she would pull away. She did not. At his touch, her lungs drew a sharp breath, like surfacing from deep water.
She turned her hand slightly, fingers twitching toward his, acknowledging.
Stephan lowered his sword first. His body stayed taut, but his focus shifted from battle to resolution.
"This stops here," he said, and it was not a request.
Yori moved next. He released Raphael’s arms slowly, testing his balance, then stepped in front of him. His heart cracked at the sight of his brother, once his greatest ally, now a man driven by fear. It took everything Yori had not to strike him down for what he had done.
"We all need to take a breath. Sit down."
No one moved at first. Then Raphael exhaled sharply, shoved his sword into its sheath, and sank into the chair behind him, dragging a hand down his face without a word.
Stephan gently tugged Eris’s wrist. She followed, lowering herself into a seat, knowing her legs might not hold her.
Yori remained standing, his gaze shifting between them as he drew a long breath. "Raphael," he said, his voice steady but softer now, the weight of what had passed settling in. "What if Eris is right?"
Raphael’s head snapped up. "What?"
