Tasted the Alpha King

Chapter 2 The Empty Chair

The next morning started the same way. Cold bed. Quiet house. The low sound of Kael’s voice mixed with the pup’s chatter downstairs. I lay still for a few minutes and let the ache settle into its usual place under my ribs. Then I got up.

I dressed without looking in the mirror. Gray again. It matched the feeling in my chest.

In the kitchen Lyra was already at the stove. The pup sat in his high chair banging a wooden spoon against the tray. Kael stood behind the chair, one hand resting on the back of it while he spoke to the boy in a soft voice I had not heard directed at me in months.

I walked in and went straight to the kettle.

“Morning,” Kael said.

“Morning.”

Lyra glanced over her shoulder and gave me that careful smile. “I made extra eggs. In case you were hungry.”

“Thank you.”

I poured tea and sat in my usual seat. The chair across from me stayed empty. Kael remained standing near the high chair. He cut the pup’s food into small pieces and blew on each bite before offering it. The boy giggled and reached for him. Kael let the small hands grab his fingers without pulling away.

I watched them and forced myself to drink.

Lyra set a plate in front of me. “You barely ate yesterday. You should try.”

“I’m fine.”

She did not argue. She only nodded and turned back to the stove. Kael never looked up from the child.

After a while he said, “I have a meeting with the border scouts at noon. I’ll be back before dark.”

“All right.”

“Lyra said the pup has been waking at night. If you hear him—”

“I know what to do.”

The words came out sharper than I intended. Kael finally looked at me. His brows pulled together for a second, then smoothed out.

“I was only saying.”

“I heard you.”

He turned back to the boy. The conversation ended there.

I finished my tea, rinsed the mug, and left the kitchen. Neither of them stopped me.

Outside the air was cool and damp. I walked the eastern path again because it was the only place that still felt like it belonged to me. Pack members passed with polite nods. One of the younger warriors, a woman named Mira, slowed when she saw me.

“Luna,” she said. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

She studied my face a moment longer than was polite. “If you ever want company on these walks, I’m usually free in the mornings.”

The offer sat between us. I almost said yes. Then I thought of how it would look— the Luna needing company because her own mate no longer walked with her—and I shook my head.

“Thank you. Another time maybe.”

Mira nodded and moved on. I kept walking until the path curved out of sight of the house.

By midday I was back in the office with the same unread reports. I opened one and stared at the lines without seeing them. My mind kept drifting to the kitchen, to the way Kael’s hand had rested so easily on the high chair, to the soft voice he used with the child.

I remembered when that voice had been mine.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Lyra stepped in carrying a small plate with two of the sweet cakes Kael had brought the day before.

“I thought you might want these,” she said. “He bought extra.”

I looked at the plate. “You can give them to the pup.”

“He already had two. These are for you.”

She set them on the desk and stayed standing. I waited for her to leave. She did not.

“Selene,” she said quietly. “I know this is strange for you. Having us here.”

I kept my eyes on the open report. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I see it. Kael sees it too, even if he doesn’t say it.”

That made me look up. “Does he?”

Lyra’s expression stayed soft, almost apologetic. “He worries. He just doesn’t know how to fix it without making things harder for the boy.”

The words landed like small stones. I set the report down.

“I’m not asking him to fix anything.”

“I know. I just… I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”

She sounded sincere. Maybe she was. Or maybe she had practiced the line. I could not tell anymore.

“You’re not,” I said. “Go back to the pup. He’ll be waking soon.”

Lyra hesitated, then nodded and left. The plate of cakes stayed on the desk. I did not touch them.

Kael returned earlier than expected. I heard his voice in the front hall, then the pup’s excited shout. I stayed in the office until the sounds moved upstairs. Only then did I come down.

Dinner was quiet. Kael talked about the border scouts and a possible increase in patrols. Lyra asked questions and listened like every word mattered. I ate and said little. Once the pup dropped his spoon and Kael laughed, the same open laugh from the night before. Something in my chest tightened so hard I had to look away.

After the meal I cleared the table again. Lyra took the boy up for his bath. Kael stayed in the doorway the way he had the previous night.

“You’re quiet again.”

“I’m tired.”

He folded his arms. “Lyra said she tried to talk to you today.”

“She did.”

“And?”

“And nothing. We talked.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “She’s trying, Selene. The least you could do is meet her halfway.”

I turned off the water and faced him fully. “Halfway to what?”

“To making this work. For all of us.”

The words hung in the air. I felt the old anger rise, slow and cold.

“This is already working for you,” I said. “You have a child who reaches for you. You have someone who listens when you speak. You have a warm place at the table. What exactly am I supposed to meet halfway?”

Kael’s eyes flashed. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is this.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. For a moment I thought he might actually say something real. Instead he shook his head.

“I’m going upstairs. Try not to make everything a fight.”

He left. I stood in the kitchen until the lights upstairs went out one by one.

Later I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my fingers to the mark on my neck. Still muted. Still distant. I wondered how long a bond could stay quiet before it simply stopped answering.

I lay down in the dark and stared at the ceiling the way I had the night before. Sleep came slowly. When it did, the dream returned—trees, cold air, and eyes that did not look through me. I woke once with my hand stretched out toward nothing, heart beating too fast.

In the quiet that followed I realized something simple and sharp.

I was starting to hate the sound of Kael’s laugh when it was not meant for me.

The thought should have scared me. Instead it settled into place like it had been waiting.

Morning would come again. The empty chair would still be empty. Lyra would still smile that careful smile. Kael would still look at the pup like the boy was the only bright thing left in the house.

And I would still be here.

For now.