Page 104 of Haunted Crowns
Eris hadn’t breathed. The vision faded, but its weight remained. Her hand flew to her mouth as terror clawed at her chest. Stephan stood among the dead, bathed in blood. Was this his fate because of her?
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not when they were all looking at him with something that bordered on worship.
He felt her fear before he saw it. Stephan turned, and without hesitation, he reached for her, grounding her.
Her breath caught, her gaze searching his, pleading. Stephan shook his head firmly.
His thumb grazed her skin, a silent vow spoken without words:Do not fear. You will not lose me.
Her fingers tightened around his in a fragile, defiant hold.
But the air shifted again.
The chamber, once filled with blood and ghosts, now lurched, twisted, as if the very bones of the ritual had been rewritten. A hush fell, electric, as the chamber braced for what came next.
Then they ran.
It was not a vision they saw. It was a vision they felt. A shuddering pulse tore through the veins of every noble who had tasted Eris’s blood. A presence gripped them, dragged them forward, hurled them into motion.
Claws tore into the earth. The scent of forest and wind filled the air, life pulsing at the edge of survival. They were running, driven by panic, thrill, and hunger. The heart of the beast thundered fiercely in their chests.
Trees blurred. Branches slashed against furred skin. Bushes tore away in their wake. The sensation was primal, consuming.
Then, an opening. The trees parted to reveal a jagged peak beneath a crimson moon, casting its light across the wild. The beast skidded to a halt and howled, a long, soul-deep cry that ripped through them. It was more than sound. It was calling. Devotion. Surrender.
From the shadows, a figure emerged. Pale, delicate hands appeared, and the beast shuddered, aching for that touch, for the claim it had craved across lifetimes. The presence before it was everything it had searched for. Everything it would kneel for.
A faint scent of roses followed. Then the vision rose, and the curve of a body came into view, sensual and powerful.
Eris.
A hooded cloak veiled part of her face, casting her in mystery and shadow.
The beast froze as she spoke an ancient, incomprehensible tongue.
Eris’s lips curved into a dark, mystical smile. Her presence didn’t soothe. It subdued. Holy. Terrifying. Impossible to resist.
The beast lowered itself at her feet. It had finally found its mistress.
Then the vision snapped.
A gasp tore through the room. Some nobles staggered, gripping their seats, panting as if their souls had been seized. Others sat motionless, eyes wide, still caught in the vision’s grip. They were all shaken and subjugated. Then every gaze turned to Eris.
She felt the weight of their stares. Her spine remained straight, though her legs trembled beneath it all.
Stephan swallowed, gaze locked on her.
That dark, knowing smile unsettled him. Power clung to her, terrible and magnetic. The wild had bowed. The beast had surrendered. Stephan had always known Eris was a force of nature, but this felt different. It was terrifying. What if her power grew beyond control and consumed her?
Raphael’s jaw locked as tension coiled through his shoulders, barely contained. She was undeniably powerful, and that power was a threat. Not just to tradition, but to his son’s rule. A spark that could burn the world.
His voice came out sharp. “This is unnatural.”
His fists clenched, breath tightening. It was wrong. All of it. His gaze snapped to Stephan, the only one who could stop this madness. But what he saw chilled him more than the vision itself.
Stephan wasn’t afraid. He stood firm and resolute, his grip steady in Eris’s hand, feeling no doubt. He had chosen. Not Dragov or the crown, buther.
The realization landed cold in Raphael’s gut. He had already lost, and as his eyes swept the chamber, he saw the nobles who had once doubted her now standing in reverence.
