Shadow Luna rising

The Bitter Taste of Lilies

The guest wing was cold. It didn't have the floor to ceiling windows of the Luna's suite, nor did it have the fireplace that Alaric used to light with a flick of hi wrist every evening. Here, the air was stagnant, smelling of dust and the faint, lingering scent of dust and the faint, lingering scent of the previous occupant.

Seraphine woke up and immediately reached for the bond. It was a habit three years in the making. Usually she would feel Alaric's steady, warm presence, a golden hum that told her he was awake and thinking of the pack. This morning there was only a wall of gray ice.

She dressed in silence, choosing her simplest training leathers. She needed to feel the weight of her daggers. As she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, she passed the portrait gallery. There in the middle a large canvas depicted a younger Seraphine and Cora, their arms linked, laughing under a blooming willow tree.

They had always been inseparable. When Cora's parents died in a rouge raid, it was Seraphine who had sheared her bed, whispering secrets into the night, and promised they would always be sisters. Seraphine had been the one to introduce Cora to Alaric's brother. She had practically built Cora's life for her. And now, Cora was using that same intimacy to dismantle Seraphine's.

"I told the cook she didn't need to make the spiced sausages this morning" a soft, melodic voice drifted from the kitchen doorway.

Seraphine stopped. Cora was standing there, wearing a morning robe that was far too sheer for a 'grieving widow'.

"Those are Alaric's favorite" Seraphine said, her voice tight. "They are a staple for the Alphas breakfast".

Cora gave a small apologetic shrug to. "Oh, I know. But they are so heavy, aren't they? And the smell is making the pup feel a bit nauseous. Alaric agreed that a lighter, fruit based breakfast would be better for the family atmosphere"

"The pack doesn't need it, Cora. We are wolves. We hunt. We eat meat". Seraphine stepped closer her shadow lengthening against the wall" And you are a guest. Stop giving orders to my staff".

Cora didn't flinch. Instead her eyes welled up with practiced ease "I am just trying to be helpful, Seraphine. I thought we were friends. I thought you, of all people, would want me to feel comfortable after what I have been through"

"Friends don't occupy their best friends seat, Cora. Friends don't seat in their best friends seat or...."

"What is going on here?"

Alaric stepped into the hall , his brow furrowed. He looked tired, but the second his eyes landed on Cora's trembling form, his expression hardened into a protective mask.

"Alaric, it's nothing," Cora whispered, tucking herself slightly behind him. "Seraphine was just... reminding me of my place. I shouldn't have changed the menu. I’m so sorry."

"She didn't do anything wrong, Seraphine," Alaric growled, his Alpha aura flared, a warning heat that made Seraphine’s skin prickle. "Cora is trying to make this house a home again. You’ve been so cold lately, so focused on duty and borders,that you’ve forgotten how to care for the people inside these walls."

"I am focusing on the borders because that is how I protect this pack!" Seraphine snapped. "While you are playing house with a woman who knows exactly how to pull your strings."

"That’s enough!" Alaric’s voice boomed, the command vibrating through the floorboards. "You will apologize to Cora. Now."

Seraphine felt the command hit her like a physical blow. Her wolf roared in protest, baring its teeth at the man who was supposed to be her protector. She looked at Alaric the man she had grown up with, her first love, her mate and saw someone she didn't recognize.

Then she looked at Cora. Over Alaric’s shoulder, the widow wasn't crying anymore. For a split second, her mask slipped. She shot Seraphine a look of pure, triumphant malice, a silent "I won."

"I will not apologize for the truth, Alaric," Seraphine said, her voice dropping to a whisper that carried more weight than his shout. "But I will leave. Clearly, the family atmosphere doesn't have room for a Luna who actually does her job."

She turned and walked away, the sound of Alaric’s frustrated sigh echoing behind her. As she headed for the training grounds, she noticed the housekeepers avoiding her gaze. They hurried past her, whispering, their eyes darting to the floor.

She was being erased.

She spent the next four hours at the archery range, her fingers raw from the bowstring. Every arrow she fired was a silent scream. She was so focused on the target that she didn't notice the approach of the Head Gamma until he was standing five feet away.

"The Alpha wants the border reports by sundown, Seraphine," he said, his voice devoid of the respect it usually held. "He asked me to double check them. He’s... concerned your emotional state might be affecting your accuracy."

Seraphine lowered the bow, her heart feeling like a lead weight. "My emotional state? He’s having my subordinates check my work now?"

The Gamma shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "He just wants what's best for the pack, Luna. Or... Seraphine. It’s better if we just keep things quiet for a while."

Seraphine. He hadn't called her Luna.

She realized then that the misunderstanding Alaric was feeding the pack was working. To them, she wasn't the warrior who had saved them from the winter famine; she was the jealous mate who was making life difficult for a poor, grieving widow.

She was losing her pack, her friend, and her mate all at once.

She walked back to the guest wing, her head held high even as her soul felt like it was being shredded. As she passed the library, she heard Alaric and Cora laughing inside. It was a soft, intimate sound.

"You're so good with him, Alaric," Cora was saying. "The pup really looks up to you. It’s like he has a father again."

Seraphine didn't stop. She didn't scream. She just kept walking until she reached her cold, lonely room. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the map of the neutral zone on her wall.

The Blood Crest pack was no longer her home. It was a theater, and she was the villain in a play written by her best friend.

She didn't know that miles away, in a fortress built of obsidian and secrets, Malachi was watching the same moon. He had heard the rumors of the Blood Crest Alpha’s folly. He knew that Alaric was busy playing father while the greatest weapon in the North was being left to rust.

"One more week," Malachi whispered to the empty room, his eyes turning abyssal black. "Let him break her heart completely. Then, I’ll take the pieces and build a Queen."