Page 146 of Haunted Crowns
Eris. Kareon. War.
The battlefield was set, and whether they admitted it or not, so was theirs.
Somewhere beyond the strategy and bloodshed, she stood. Late morning sun spilled through the high windows of Dragov Castle, gilding the stone in soft, deceptive light. But inside, there was no warmth.
Eris stood motionless, staring past the horizon as if she could outrun the ghosts clinging to her. Grief whispered through silence, settling into her skin. Outside, the world held its breath, mourning with her. She touched the glass, barely feeling the chill. Her silk nightgown hung loose, the belt slipping, forgotten. Nothing mattered. Her family was gone. The weightof it hollowed her chest, pressing in with each breath. A storm churned beneath her skin, but outwardly, she remained stone.
A knock sounded at the door. She did not hear it.
Another knock followed, louder.
Still no response.
The door creaked open. Kareon stood there, his presence heavy and familiar. He shifted, breath catching in his throat, about to speak—until he realized he did not need to.
“You should knock next time.” Her voice was quiet, detached.
She hadn’t heard him enter. She had felt his presence pressing against the edges of her mind like a shadow.
He smirked despite himself. “And here I thought I was being subtle.”
No eye-roll. No bite. No spark.
This was wrong. She wasn’t teasing. She wasn’t pushing back just to prove she could. She wasn’t really here.
Kareon hated it. Seeing her like this, diminished, twisted something deep in him.
He should have stopped it. He should have killed Leira and Vatryk when he had the chance, reduced the Obsidian Order to ash. He should have protected her. But Kareon was not built for regret. He was built to act. And he would not let her drown.
He stepped forward, then again. His scent—smoke, earth, winter’s edge—wrapped around her.
Still, she didn’t move, not until he stood beside her. Only then did she turn.
Grief was carved into her. That sharp, luminous face was dulled. Her eyes, once defiant green, were empty.
It gutted him.
She had always been light. A flare against the dark. And now she was vanishing into it.
Something snarled in his chest.
No. Not her.
“Get dressed.”
She blinked slowly, as if the words had to fight their way through fog. Then she arched a brow. “Excuse me?”
He exhaled, jaw tight. “I said, get dressed. We’re going somewhere.”
Her sigh was barely a whisper. “Not today, Kareon. I’d rather stay here…If that’s okay. Please.”
A blade to the ribs. That voice—too soft. Too unlike her. Eris had never been fragile, but this was unraveling, and he wouldn’t allow it.
Before she could retreat, he caught her wrist—firm, not cruel. His other hand tilted her chin, guiding her eyes to his.
“All right,” he said, voice low. “I know commanding you isn’t exactly how I win points.” His lips curved slowly. “But just this once—humor me.” He paused as his grin sharpened. “Or I’ll dress you myself. And we both know how that ends.”
She stilled, eyes locked to his, searching. Kareon didn’t blink. He meant it.
