Page 24 of Haunted Crowns
"Come on. Let’s go."
She didn’t move at first, but after a breath, she stepped forward and fell into stride beside him.
The fire roared, casting waves of heat against the gathered Lycans. Shadows stretched long over wary faces, lined with distrust and the quiet edge of defiance. At the center stood Kareon, tall and unyielding. A storm before the first strike of thunder. Beside him stood Eris, graceful and steady. A Firstblood among wolves, yet she didn’t cower.
A flicker of something stirred within her, not a voice or a thought, but a feeling. One that was not her own. She turned slightly, her gaze landing on a warrior by the fire. Doubt curled heavy in his chest. She inhaled sharply, and the sensation vanished as quickly as it came.A trick of the mind. Nothing more. She brushed it off.
Kareon let them feel it: the weight of the unknown, the discomfort of change. Then he spoke.
"You wonder why she is here." His voice didn’t lash out; it cut slow and deliberate. “You think I’ve bent to Kaelioth’s will. That I’ve let a Firstblood sit at our fire.”
A scoff rose from the back, followed by a muttered curse.
He turned sharply, the fire casting long shadows behind him.
“You forget who I am.” Silence answered. "I have never bowed. Never allowed weakness. And I will not start now."
The weight of his words settled into their bones. Then he turned to her. Let the firelight carve her in gold, let them see the strength in her stillness.
"Eris Dragov stands here because the spirits have called her." His voice carried the weight of truth. "Not as our enemy. But as something more." A hesitation followed. A breath caught between disbelief and possibility. "She stands among us because she chose to. And if she has the courage to walk this path, then we will have the strength to listen."
A warrior exhaled sharply. Another shifted, their stance softening. Kareon turned to her, steady. A silent question passed between them. Eris met his eyes and nodded. She drew asteady breath. There would be no turning back now, so, without hesitation, she stepped forward, not as a girl thrown into fate, but as a woman who had chosen it.
"I do not stand here to ask for your trust." The fire didn’t crackle. It listened. "Trust is not given. It is earned. And I will earn yours." She met their eyes, one by one, unafraid. "I did not come to beg, or to rule. I came because I could not turn away. I have seen what this war has done to your people. To my people. To innocent lives crushed between our endless hatred. And I will not be another ruler who sits in silence while the world burns."
A warrior bristled, fingers flexing at his side. Another shifted uncomfortably, his jaw clenching. Yet another turned his gaze away, as if her words had touched something raw beneath the surface.
"I have been called to this path,” she continued. “And I will walk it as someone who chooses peace over war, life over ruin."
The silence that followed was not empty. It was full and heavy, the kind that could not be broken. Something had changed. They had not embraced her, but they were listening.
Then came movement. The warriors stirred as an elderly woman stepped forward. The crowd parted without a word, as if something unseen had willed it so.
Eris turned, her pulse thrumming as the woman approached and stopped before her.
Murmurs rippled through the pack, some confused, some stunned, but the woman’s ancient and knowing gaze never wavered as she lifted a trembling hand toward Eris’s face. Then she knelt. A flicker of breath caught in Eris’s chest. The woman’s voice was reverent.
"Farr kinkara, Seraphina’tai."
Eris didn’t understand the words, but they settled in her bones, old as wind. Kareon exhaled sharply and stepped forward, his expression unreadable.
“She calls you Seraphina.”
Eris’s throat tightened. The woman pressed a palm to her heart, her voice a fragile thread.
“Karrin’ta kal akaror…ntas kal shitan.”
Eris turned to Kareon. “Translate, please.”
He hesitated, jaw tight. Then, reluctantly, he said: “She says she has seen you in her dreams. That the prophecy is waking.”
A hush fell. Eris swallowed hard, the weight of it pressing deeper, threading through her like roots breaking through stone. The woman nodded, her eyes bright with something close to wonder.
“Ilartinta’na. Tun’ktai Seraphina.”
Kareon exhaled again. “The spirits do not forget.”
A dense silence followed. Eris felt the weight of their gazes pressing in, waiting, but the ground beneath her had already shifted. Then Kareon stepped forward. His voice cut through the moment, final and laced with warning. "Enough of this."
