The Ghost at the Table
The scent of cedar and woodsmoke, the scent of home, was gone. In its place was the suffocating perfume of lilies. It was the scent of a funeral and it followed Cora everywhere she went.
Seraphine stood at the entrance of the great hall, her fingers tracing the cold stone of the archway. Inside, the fire crackled, and the sound of domestic bliss echoed against the rafters. It was a sound that used to belong to her. Now, she felt like a trespasser in her own life. She stepped into the light.
At the head of the long mahogany table sat Alaric, the alpha of the blood Crest pack and thean whose soul was supposed to be tethered to hers. But his eyes weren't searching for her. He was leaning in close to Cora, his brothers widow, whispering something that made her let out a soft tittering laugh. Between them sat Cora's pup, messy faced and grinning, occupying the space where Seraphine once thought her children would sit.
"You are late" Alaric said without looking up, his voice flat.
" I was finishing the border reports you asked for" Seraphine replied, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears. She moved towards her seat, the luna's seat, situated to the right of the Alpha.
But it wasn't empty. Cora was draped in it, her silk dress flowing over the carved armrests.
"Cora, you are in my seat" Seraphine said, her voice gaining a sharp edge.
The widow looked up, her wide innocent eyes instantly shimmering with unshed tears. " Oh, Seraphine! I am so sorry. I just... Alaric said I should seat here to feel closer to the hearth. I've been so cold since the funeral..."
"It's fine, Cora. Stay put" Alaric snapped, finally meeting Seraphine's gaze. His eyes, which used to burn with gold whenever he looked at her, were now cold and irritated. "Don't be petty, Seraphine. She is grieving. Surely you can seat at the end of the table for one night"
"It's been three months of 'one nights', Alaric," Seraphine whispered. " I am your mate. I am the luna of this pack. I am not a guest to be shuffled to the foot of the table like a servant".
"You are acting like a child" Alaric growled, the Alphas command vibrating in his chest. "I move your things to the guest wing so the pup wouldn't be woken by your early training sessions. I gave Cora the Luna's suite so she could have the extra security. I am protecting my family. why is it so hard for you to understand?"
Family. The word felt like a sharp blade across he throat.
"I was your family" Seraphine said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy silk. "I bled for this pack. I held the line when your brother fell. And now you treat me like a ghost haunting your hallways".
Alaric stood up his chair screeching against the floor. "If you are going to stand there and cast a shadow over our dinner, then leave. We don't need your bitterness here".
Seraphine looked at him, she saw the weakness in his jaw and the way he hovered over Cora like a man possessed by a false duty. The disgust that rose in her was so hot it threatened to choke her. The mate bond flickered, a dying ember in the cold hearth, but for the first time, she didn't try to fan it back to life.
"You're right Alaric" Seraphine said, her expression turning unnervingly calm. "You don't need me and soon you are going to realize exactly what that means".
Sh turned on her heels and walked out, leaving the smell of lilies behind. She didn't head towards the the guest wing. She walked toward the northern gates, towards the dark jagged peaks of the Shadow Realm.
Deep in those mountains, Malachi the king of the Shadow Lycans, sat on a throne of obsidian. He felt a shift in the wind, a taste of silver and storm. He has been waiting for the Blood Moon Crest Alpha to break his most precious treasure.
The king smiled, his dark eyes with raw hunger. The ghost was finally coming out of the house
