Page 77 of Haunted Crowns
Her sobs faded into shaky breaths. Her fingers curled against his bare skin, as if letting go might make him disappear.
Stephan tilted her chin and brushed his lips over her forehead. "You’re not getting rid of me that easily, you know."
A breath hitched in her throat, half a laugh, half a sob.
His eyes gleamed, fiercely now. "No prophecy. No war. No damned spirits will take you from me. And if the gods have a problem with that, I will send them to the abyss myself."
A shaky smile tugged at her lips. "That’s blasphemy," she murmured.
"Good," he said. "Let them be offended."
She chuckled, breathy and exhausted, but real.
Stephan brushed away the remnants of her tears, smirking. "There she is."
Eris rolled her eyes but stayed close. She was still afraid, but with him, the weight felt bearable. Together, wrapped in each other, the world felt distant, muted.
Stephan exhaled, his voice dipping into something lighter. "You know, if you wanted me to stay, there were far less dramatic ways to ask."
Eris huffed. "I wasn’t asking. I was just…having a moment."
"A moment?" He arched a brow. "You nearly drowned me in tears, love."
She swatted his chest. "Shut up."
He laughed warmly, sending a shiver down her spine. "Come here," he murmured, shifting them beneath the sheets.
Eris nestled against his chest, sinking into the quiet safety of his arms. He held her tightly.
"Stephan?"
"Hmm?"
"Promise me we’ll make it."
His arms tightened as he pressed a kiss into her hair. "I promise." Then, softer: "And you?"
Eris closed her eyes. "I promise."
Stephan exhaled, pulling her closer. Her body molded to his like it had always belonged. His fingers traced slow circles along her back, soothing, anchoring. Her lashes brushed his skin as sleep took her. Stephan kissed the top of her head, savoring the feel of her tucked against him.
His last thought before sleep was simple:
Fate be damned. She was his and nothing would take her away.
Earlier that night, in the Black Hall.
The chamber doors shut behind them. Raphael stood motionless, fingers braced against the polished obsidian table,anchoring himself against what had just passed.
Yori exhaled sharply and sank into one of the high-backed chairs, dragging a weary hand down his face. The weight of their words to their children lingered, woven into the flicker of candlelight like smoke refusing to clear.
"You went too far," Yori said, voice frayed.
Raphael scoffed. "I did not go far enough."
Yori turned, silver eyes glinting. "You drew your blade on her."
"I did draw it," Raphael said flatly. "And I do not regret it."
