Page 179 of Haunted Crowns
Why?
Now the truth aligned. The bond to Eris, and the rivalry with Stephan had never been chance or choice. It had been written in their blood.
Stephan stood motionless, as if the world itself held its breath. He felt it in his bones—an ancient thread, inescapable, bindingthem by blood and fate. His grip on the sword tightened. Kareon was his kin. Eris’s kin.
The war had been rigged from the start. What did fate really want from them?
Eris’s breath caught as the truth unraveled. Fate had not only bound her to Kareon—it had woven them all together.
This only deepened her resolve. What they shared was sacred, and Kriponius had no right to twist it into something vile.
Eris pushed herself up, legs weak and trembling, but her will remained unshaken. Her green eyes burned as they locked onto Kriponius’s like fire against an abyss. “The only abhorrent thing I see here is you.”
Kriponius’s smirk faltered.
“Thou dost believe the spirits guide thee? Shield thee?” he sneered. “Nay. They but use thee. This tale is not thine, girl. It is theirs. Their will. And thou art but a vessel."
Stephan and Kareon tensed.
Kriponius’s hatred deepened. "They would raise a mongrel from the House of Dragov. Defile the Firstblood line. Replace us with beasts."
Kareon flinched. Stephan’s jaw tightened. But Eris held.
“You are wrong.” Her voice shook but did not break. “They do not toy with us. They guide us. They protect us. But only if you have faith.” She steadied her breath. "I pity you, Kriponius." He stilled, but Eris did not falter. Her voice was not cruel, but unshaking. Her truth was meant to wake, not to wound. "You turned from faith. From her. You could have chosen love. But instead, you chose war."
Silence followed, deep as a grave. Then she stepped forward.
"You curse the spirits. You blame the world. But the truth?" She let the silence hang like a blade. "You did this to yourself."
Kriponius snapped. His roar shattered the sky. "Thou wretched, mongrel-stained harlot! I shall carve his scent from thy flesh with mine own hands!"
He lunged, fangs bared, fury unbound. Eris did not flinch. But before Kriponius reached her, Stephan’s blade met his in a clash so violent, it cracked the earth beneath them.
His dark eyes blazed with something primal. “You are not taking another inch toward her,” he said, unwavering.
Kriponius growled, baring his fangs in reply. Steel tore through flesh, and he sneered, his voice curling like smoke.
“Thou pitiful, lovesick wretch,” he hissed. “She shall be the death of thee.”
Another blow landed. Stephan staggered, blood pouring as pain shattered his body. A savage kick sent him crashing down, breathless and broken.
Kareon’s growl broke into a desperate sound, but his body refused to move.
Eris screamed, her voice lost to the storm. She had to act—now. She closed her eyes and reached into Kriponius’s mind, trying to turn the fury into something else, something softer. She wanted him to remember what it felt like to be loved by her.
Seraphina.
But his mind was an impenetrable fortress of madness.
Stephan lay still, strength fading, as the tyrant strode toward Eris. She backed away, but there was nowhere to run. A cold hand clamped around her throat and lifted her into the air.
Kareon strained toward her, powerless. Stephan could not stand, so he crawled forward, bleeding and unrelenting.
“Thinkest thou to win this?” Kriponius’s voice thundered with mockery. “Dost thou believe the spirits’ design is final? Nay. Others have seen the tapestry.” His grip tightened around Eris’s throat as she struggled for air. “If not by mine hand, then another shall rise to burn it all.” His sneer deepened.“Surrender, Seraphina. I shall slay thee again and again, until thy soul yields. Until thou art mine.” His voice dropped, dark and final. “Mine alone.”
His fingers dug deeper into her throat. The world darkened and her vision blurred. Her strength had vanished, burned away in her last divine act. But a memory broke through the haze.
Dragovs don’t fall. We rise sharper.
