Page 116 of Haunted Crowns
Raphael moved first, his arms falling open as she slipped from him like the last thread of a dream unraveling into nightmare. He staggered back, breath faltering. His fist braced against the cold stone wall.
Slowly, he lowered his forehead to it as the weight of what he had done settled over him like judgment. Then a voice cut through the silence.
“Tell me this is not what I think it is.”
It was Yori’s voice, sharp as unsheathed steel. His fury stood caged, barely contained.
Raphael’s knuckles whitened as he gave a slow nod.
Stephan lifted his head, rage burning in his eyes. His voice cracked. “What is it?” The silence held for a moment, then Stephan shouted, “WHAT IS IT?!”
Yori’s snarl turned feral. “The Obedience Seal. It strips away will, leaves only obedience.”
Stephan’s stomach dropped.
Yori moved, fast and brutal. He crossed the chamber, seized Raphael by the collar, and slammed him into the wall. Stone cracked.
“I FORBADE YOU TO USE THAT ON MY DAUGHTER! LOOK AT HER! LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”
He slammed him again.
Stephan couldn’t breathe. His gaze dropped to her wrists, bruised and torn. She had been shackled.
They had tried to cage her all her life—to tame her, make her something palatable. Still, she endured. And now his father had chained her like an animal and carved the soul from her.
His voice fell, low and lethal. “You treated her like a beast.” His throat burned. “May the gods damn you. May you never know peace in this life or the next.”
Raphael did not defend himself. He took the full weight of their rage, because he knew he deserved it.
Yori’s hands trembled. "You have never failed a spell in your cursed life. Why is she gone?"
Raphael swallowed. His voice rasped, hollow. "It was meant to be clean. Painless. But she fought it. The spell turned and tore her apart."
Stephan stilled, crushed beneath the weight of it.
Of course she fought. Gods, the pain she must have endured. Dark magic clawing at her soul. His breath turned sharp and ragged. She had endured that agony, and she had done it alone.
The thought destroyed him. His fists curled. His vision blurred. Grief, horror, and rage spiraled through him, heavy and suffocating.
He lifted his head. His voice cracked as he spoke, part command, part plea. "Undo it." Silence stretched. Then he shouted, louder, harsher. "UNDO IT!"
Raphael answered, his voice low and stripped of life. "The spell ripped through her soul like wildfire." Stephan went still. "And once a soul is torn, there is nothing left to undo. Nothing left to save."
The words struck like earth sealing a grave.
Stephan shattered. He tried to speak, to breathe, but grief had reshaped his lungs. Raphael’s answer was not enough. It could not be the end. His pulse pounded, frantic and desperate. He looked at Eris. She was still beautiful. If he ignored the stillness, she could almost be sleeping. He held her tighter, body trembling. Then something stirred behind his ribs. It was not a voice or a sound. It was a memory striking without warning.
The shaman.
Eris had said he’d guided her through prophecy.
Stephan did not hesitate. He rose, lifting her like something sacred, something no god had the right to take.
His voice pressed against her hair like a vow. "Stay with me, my love. I am not letting you go."
Yori turned toward him. "Where are you taking her?"
Stephan’s grip tightened. “There is still one chance.” Then he looked at his father. His voice was sharp and final. “When I return, however this ends—stand ready to face my blade.”
