In the Shadow of the Crown

The ride back to her estate was shrouded in silence, save for the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the stone road. Eliza sat rigid in the carriage, hands clenched in her lap, her thoughts a whirlwind of anger and uncertainty.

Raen's touch still burned on her skin, a ghost of possession lingering in the form of the bruise on her neck.

A mark. A brand. A warning.@@novelbin@@

Her fingers trembled as she brushed against it.

[The bastard.]                                        

She had sworn she would leave him behind in that chamber, in that suffocating castle where his golden eyes gleamed with arrogance and dark promises. And yet, here she was, carrying him with her, etched into her flesh for all to see.

[Let them see the battlefield, he had said.]

Her jaw tightened.

If this was war, then she would fight.

The carriage jerked to a stop, snapping her out of her thoughts. The heavy iron gates of her estate loomed ahead, their intricate design sharp against the dimming sky. The guards moved quickly, recognizing the crest on her transport, and within moments, she was home.

Home.

A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips. Was it even hers anymore?

She stepped down onto the gravel path, exhaling sharply, forcing composure back into her spine.

And then she felt it.

A presence.

Not the silent servants who bowed as she passed. Not the distant figures of her household staff, rushing to ensure her return was met with perfection.

Something else.

Someone else.

She didn't have to look up to know.

Elric.

The air shifted, thick with something unspoken. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

He stood at the base of the grand staircase, dressed in deep navy, the color of the royal house, his blond hair slightly tousled as if he had been waiting for hours. His pale blue eyes locked onto her, taking in every detail—her tired stance, her parted lips… and then his gaze dropped lower.

To her neck.

Eliza’s breath caught.

He saw it.

[Saw Raen’s mark.]

For a single heartbeat, nothing happened. No words. No movement. Just a quiet, terrifying stillness.

Then, Elric smiled.

Not his usual charming smile, not the one that disarmed noblewomen at court or coaxed secrets from lips too eager to whisper them. No—this was something else.

Something cold.

Something dangerous.

“Eliza,” he said, voice smooth, deceptively gentle. “You’ve been away too long.”

She swallowed hard. “I...”

Elric stepped forward, closing the distance between them before she could react. He didn’t touch her, but the space between them felt razor-thin, charged.

“Tell me.” His fingers lifted as if to brush against the mark but stopped just short. “Did he give you this freely, or did he take it from you?”

The question sent a shiver through her.

She wanted to lie. Wanted to claim that it was nothing, that Raen was nothing.

[But Elric was no fool.]

[He could read her too well.]

He always could.

“Elric…” she started, her voice barely a whisper.

His smirk didn’t waver, but something dark flickered in his eyes.

“You’ve made a mess of things, my dear,” he murmured, reaching for her hand. She barely had time to react before his grip tightened, not painfully, but firm enough that there was no mistaking his intent.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, soft as a secret, lethal as a blade. “And I don’t intend to share.”

The words sent ice through her veins.

Not because they were untrue.

But because they were too familiar.

Because they sounded just like Raen.

And for the first time, standing between the two men who both claimed her as their own, Eliza realized...

She wasn’t sure which of them she should fear more.