Page 18 of Haunted Crowns
“Looking for a way out?” His voice dipped, amused. “There isn’t one. Just you and me.”
She exhaled sharply. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’ll have to try harder.”
His golden eyes glittered. “Scare you? No.” He leaned in, breath warm against her skin. “But I do wonder… how much fear it would take to make you run.”
She met his gaze, steady. “You won’t hurt me.”
His smirk faltered, just slightly. “And what makes you so sure?”
The air thickened. Eris stepped back, but Kareon followed until her spine pressed to rough bark. His breath ghosted her cheek, warm despite the chill. Too close. The space between them shifted.
“Because if you were going to,” she said evenly, “you already would have.”
Kareon’s eyes narrowed. Her defiance disarmed him. The forest faded. The moment coiled tight between them. She had apoint. She always did. And moon above, he hated how much it fascinated him.
His gaze dropped to the corset laced over her waist, tight, elegant. Defiant. Her pulse thrummed beneath the fabric. His own breath hitched, barely, but something inside him gave way.
Her scent curled around him, warm, sweet. Laced with damp earth. It wrapped him like a snare. She stood there, unflinching in the half-light. Soft, never weak. A contradiction of steel and silk. Commanding, even in stillness. And that gaze—direct, unsettling—made him reckless.
His fingers lifted, hooking beneath one of her corset strings. His voice dropped, rough.
“Still so sure of yourself, princess…” The touch lingered. His pulse pounded. But beneath the desire: a question. Was her courage real… or a lure?
To Eris, the contact wasn’t just a threat or invitation. It was a test. A reminder of every time power had been used to contain her. And she was done being contained. She didn’t flinch. Her eyes found his, fierce.
“Kareon, please. Don’t.”
Her voice was soft but firm. A line drawn clearly, no less sharp for its gentleness.
The forest hushed. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. She didn’t just stand her ground. She saw him. Not the predator, or the wolf. But the man beneath the mask. And that terrified him more than any blade, because fear he could command, lust he could twist, but being seen? That was a kind of power he couldn’t control.
Something twisted in his chest—desire, guilt, fury, all bruised under restraint. He stepped back like he’d been burned, fists curling at his sides, jaw clenched tight. His golden eyes flared, then dimmed.
“You’re lucky,” he muttered. “I’m not in the mood to prove a point today.”
Eris closed her eyes and exhaled, relieved. He had listened. When she opened them, something had shifted. The leaves stirred. Birds called again, slow, delayed, as if they’d been waiting on her. Kareon’s frown deepened. The change came too quickly. His gaze swept the canopy, instincts prickling. Not fear—something deeper. Recognition, maybe. He shook it off. But the feeling stayed, like a whisper that hadn’t finished speaking.
Eris moved, tightening the loosened strings of her corset. Her fingers trembled, but her voice was steady.
“Why are you here, Kareon?”
His attention snapped back. The control wrapped tight again.
“Bellara told me what you did for her.” His tone was unreadable. “Why?”
Eris hesitated. He looked at her like he was dissecting her from the inside out. She was used to being watched, not understood. That kind of gaze felt like exposure. And that scared her.
What would he do with her softness, if he saw it? Would he twist it? Use it?
“Because I couldn’t stand there and do nothing,” she said finally. “I refuse to be silent anymore. Is that something you wouldn’t understand?”
Kareon’s jaw flexed. His golden gaze held hers, hard. She shouldn’t exist like this. Not in his world. A Firstblood princess, risking public scorn for a Lycan girl. Her eyes shimmered with conviction. Unflinching. Real. It rattled him more than he cared to admit. So he arched a brow, let the edge of a smirk curve his mouth. A shield more than a smile. His voice dipped, mockery worn like armor.
“So that’s it?” he said, tone too casual to be honest. “The Dragov princess playing hero. You think kindness changes anything?”
Eris’s expression hardened. “I don’t play at anything.”
“Oh?” Kareon stepped closer again, the wolf back in his eyes. “Then tell me… does golden boy know about your little rebellion?” His mouth curved, wicked. “Bet he’d be thrilled.”
