Page 45 of Haunted Crowns
The corridor was quiet, though not still. Eris cradled a volume like a shield, but its weight was nothing compared to the one pressing against her chest. She had found the book she came for, but her mind was already lost to other pages, ones unwritten, unfinished, still aching to be resolved. Kareon’s scent still lingered on her skin: earth and storm, impossible to forget. The bond between them pulsed like a second heartbeat beneath her ribs, ancient, uninvited, and alive. She didn’t want to understand it, but it didn’t care. It simply existed, and it wanted. The spirits had spoken, and the pack had bowed. They called herchosen.
Destiny, sharp and sacred, pressed against her spine like a blade. Still, her thoughts spiraled around one name.
Stephan.
He had once been her anchor, until he let go. The echo of his rejection still throbbed, sharply.
But she knew him. He wouldn’t leave things broken. He would come. And the part of her that still bled wasn’t asking if. It was asking: What if? What if he hadn’t changed? What if he said all the right things, did all the right things…and still left her hollow again?
Then she felt it. A surge of emotion through the gift she never asked for: longing, guilt, jealousy. She turned sharply, and there he was: Stephan, disheveled and breathless.
His shirt was skewed, his hair damp from a sprint. His eyes locked on her like the space between them was killing him.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. The book slipped from her fingers and landed with a soft thud. They both bent to pick it up. Their hands brushed, and the world held its breath.
Heat shot up her arm as her lungs locked. She stood too quickly, as if his touch had seared her. He stayed low a second longer, then rose, measured in motion, though not in heart. He offered the book back to her, his gaze unreadable.
Her touch was a ghost, soft and fleeting, but it ignited everything he had buried: the sleepless night, the ache with no name. He swallowed it all, masked it in stillness, but it clawed at him, feral and relentless.
She hesitated, then took the book, careful not to touch him. “Thank you,” she whispered. She backed up until her spine hit the bookshelf. She was trapped.
Stephan didn’t move. Then his gaze dropped to the Lycan charm at her throat, catching the light. His heart stopped. His breath followed.
Kareon had stepped into the space Stephan left behind. Of course he had. He had touched her, held her. Maybe even more than that.
Images tore through Stephan’s mind, ones he did not want to see. He looked away, jaw clenched. He wanted to demand, to take, just to feel whole again. But he no longer had the right.
“A parting gift?” he asked. His voice was low and tight.
Eris’s fingers brushed the charm. “A reminder,” she said. Her touch lingered, like a wound that refused to heal.
His world fractured. He could not speak. The image of her turning to Kareon, finding comfort in someone else’s arms, gutted him. His father had taught him to hide everything. But here, with her, he wanted to bleed. He had no right to ask anything of her, but gods, it burned like betrayal.
He turned back, his voice rougher than before. “I know I failed you,” he said. “I broke your trust when it mattered most.”
She said nothing. Her silence unraveled him.
“After you left, I went to the Dragov archives,” he said. “I needed to understand. To find something, anything, that could explain what I could not let myself believe.” Her gaze lifted. “And I found her,” he said. “Seraphina. She showed me the truth. But more than that…she reminded me of what I should have always known.”
“What?” Eris asked.
“That I was meant to protect you,” he said. “And I will. I swear it.”
Her expression flickered, soft then guarded. Her eyes held what she would not say.
“That day I came to you with the truth,” she said, “the way you looked at me, right before I walked away…”
His throat worked, but no words came.
“That is when it happened,” she said. “That is when I stopped feeling safe.”
Silence settled, heavy, between them. Something inside him cracked. She hadn’t just been angry. She had been afraid of him.
He closed his eyes. “I thought I was protecting you. And I failed. I see that now. I am sorry, Eris. I am so damn sorry.”
She clutched the book tighter. Her heart ached, but her walls held firm. Forgiveness was one thing. Trust was another.
She knew he hadn’t reported her. If he had, she’d be locked away already. That truth weighed heavily in her chest, but it did not silence the fear that he might still break her in ways no one else could.
