Page 85 of Haunted Crowns
“You’re back,” he murmured, voice raw. “Welcome home, princess.”
Eris stilled against him.
Home.
Yes. That was exactly how it felt.
He pulled back just enough to see her, his hands still at her waist, as if afraid she might vanish. His gaze searched hers, desperate to read what he had not been there to witness. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, and in his silence, she heard everything: the guilt, the helplessness, the shame of not being the one to save her. So she reached for the one truth he had given her. Her fingers lifted to the pendant at her neck, the one he had placed there—another lifetime ago.
“It kept me safe,” she whispered.
He stopped breathing. His eyes dropped to the tarnished necklace, still glowing faintly where her skin had warmed the metal. She held it like it was holy, and in that moment, he shattered. He had not known if she would keep it, but she had. She had held on to him.
“Good,” he said softly. “That’s what it was meant for.”
Then Kaelioth’s voice cut through the crowd. It was rough with disbelief, full of soul. “Eris?”
She turned, her face lighting up. And just like that, she stepped away. Kareon’s arms fell empty, the absence brutal.
He stood frozen, watching her leave. His fingers twitched, aching to pull her back into the gravity they had just found again, but he did not move.
Kaelioth’s laugh rumbled through the space between them as he pulled her into a fierce, fatherly embrace. “Moonlight,” the old shaman murmured, voice thick with awe. “We thought we lost you.”
Eris exhaled, folding into him without hesitation. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “I know,” she whispered. “I am sorry.”
Kaelioth shook his head as he gently lowered her. “You are here now,” he said. “That is all that matters.”
She smiled into his chest, tired but at peace.
Kareon exhaled slowly, relief raw in his chest. Then his gaze shifted past her and sharpened instantly, his entire posture changing as what had been relaxed became predatory.
The vampire.
Cassiel stood silent at Eris’s side, arms crossed, radiating simmering discomfort. The pack, who had only moments ago cheered for her return, now turned their attention to him. Joy curdled into suspicion, into teeth.
Kareon’s gaze swept slowly over Cassiel like a blade, unblinking, then flicked back to Eris. “And him?”
Cassiel tensed. Eris stepped beside him, the corner of her mouth lifting. “This is Cassiel,” she said sweetly. “My new shadow. Since most of Goznoth currently wants me dead, my loving family has appointed a bodyguard.”
Kareon scoffed. “A bodyguard?” He looked Cassiel up and down with open disdain. “You don’t need him here. You’re safer with us. Safer than with your own, clearly—since we would’ve never let you be taken in the first place.”
Cassiel let out a sharp breath: half laugh, half insult. “Excuse me?”
Kareon didn’t blink. “Your people failed. We wouldn’t have.”
Cassiel’s eyes flashed. “You arrogant son of a—”
Eris stepped between them, pressing a hand to each of their chests with theatrical annoyance.
"All right," she sighed. "Enough." Then her lips curved into a wicked grin. “Instead of fighting, how about we celebrate the fact that I amalive?”
Kareon’s brow lifted. Then he smirked. “You want a celebration?”
Eris tilted her head. “Lycan-style.”
His grin spread, wicked.
“You heard her,” Kaelioth called out, his voice cutting through the tension like a flame. “Let us feast!”
