Tasted the Alpha King

I woke before the sun again. The space beside me on the bed was cold and had been for weeks. I lay still and listened to the house. Soft footsteps downstairs. Lyra’s careful voice. The pup’s small laugh. Kael answering them in that low tone he used to save for me. I stayed in bed longer than I needed to. Habit. Or maybe the last bit of pride that still hated walking into a room where I already knew I would not be the center of anyone’s attention. When I finally got up I washed my face with cold water and pulled on a plain gray dress. Nothing special. No one looked at what I wore anymore. In the kitchen Lyra stood at the stove with the pup on her hip. Kael leaned against the counter next to her, one hand resting lightly on her lower back while he spoke to the child. The pup reached for him and Kael took him without missing a beat, settling the boy against his chest like it belonged there. I walked in. “Morning,” I said. Kael glanced over. “Selene. You’re up early.” “I always am.” He turned back to the pup and bounced him once. The child giggled. Lyra smiled at the sound, soft and grateful. I moved past them and poured my own tea. The mug still had the small chip from years ago when Kael and I had laughed too hard and dropped it. He never mentioned the chip now. I sat at the table. The chair across from me stayed empty. Kael preferred to stand near Lyra. “Did you sleep well?” Lyra asked without turning. “Fine.” “Good.” She plated eggs and set them in front of Kael first, then a smaller portion for the pup, then one for me. I thanked her. She nodded and went back to the stove. Kael sat down at last with the pup still in his lap. He fed the boy small bites between his own. Every few seconds he made a quiet sound of encouragement. I watched the way his hand cupped the back of the child’s head. Gentle. Certain. The same hand that used to rest on the back of my neck when we talked late at night. I ate without tasting much. After a while Kael looked at me over the pup’s hair. “There’s a border patrol report this afternoon. I’ll be gone until evening.” “All right.” “Lyra might need help with the boy if he gets fussy.” “I know.” He nodded like that settled everything and went back to the child. I finished my tea, rinsed the mug, and left the kitchen. Neither of them called after me. The rest of the morning passed the way most mornings did. I walked the eastern garden path because it was the quietest place left in the territory. Pack members nodded when they passed. Some smiled. None stopped the way they used to when Kael and I walked these same paths together. I had become the woman who lived in the Alpha’s house, not the Luna they once looked to for anything. At midday I came back to find Lyra in the sitting room with the pup asleep against her chest. Kael was still gone. She looked up and gave me that careful polite smile she always wore around me. “He’s finally down,” she whispered. “Kael said he might bring back those little sweet cakes the pup likes.” “That’s kind of him.” She hesitated. “You’ve been quiet lately, Selene. If there’s anything—” “I’m fine.” The words came out flatter than I meant. Lyra’s smile faltered for half a second before she smoothed it back. She adjusted the blanket around the child and did not press. I went upstairs to the office that used to be ours. The desk still held old maps and reports Kael no longer asked me to read. I sat in the chair and opened a ledger I did not need. The numbers blurred. My mind kept circling the kitchen, the way Kael’s hand had rested on Lyra’s back, the easy way the pup fit against him. I used to think the mate bond would protect us from this kind of quiet dying. I used to believe the mark on my neck meant something that could not be worn away by another woman’s presence and a child’s laughter that did not belong to me. I was wrong. By late afternoon the house filled again with Kael’s scent. I heard him in the hallway talking low to Lyra, heard the pup’s happy squeal when Kael picked him up. I stayed in the office with the door half closed and listened until the sounds moved toward the stairs. Footsteps paused outside my door. I waited. The footsteps continued on. Dinner was the same as breakfast. Kael at one end of the table with the pup in a high chair beside him. Lyra across from them. Me at the far side. Conversation moved around me like water around a stone. Kael told Lyra about a new training schedule for the younger warriors. She asked questions. He answered with more detail than he had given me in months. Once the pup dropped a piece of bread and Kael laughed, the real laugh, the one that used to make my stomach tighten with warmth. I looked down at my plate and kept eating. When the meal ended I cleared the dishes without being asked. Lyra took the pup upstairs for a bath. Kael lingered in the kitchen doorway watching me. “You barely spoke tonight,” he said. I stacked plates in the sink. “There wasn’t much to say.” He was quiet for a moment. “Lyra thinks you’re unhappy.” “Lyra thinks a lot of things.” “Selene.” I turned off the water and faced him. He stood there looking tired and faintly irritated, as if my silence was an inconvenience he had to solve before he could go upstairs. “I’m tired,” I said. “That’s all.” He studied my face the way he used to when he could still read every shift in my mood. Whatever he saw now did not seem to reach him. He nodded once. “Get some rest then.” He left. I listened to him climb the stairs, heard the soft exchange of voices from the nursery, then the quiet click of the door to the room that used to be only ours. I stayed in the kitchen until the house settled into night sounds. Later I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and looked at the silver mark on the side of my neck. It still glowed faintly under the skin, proof that the bond existed. I pressed my fingers to it. No answering warmth came from the other end. Only the same distant, muffled pulse it had carried for weeks. I turned off the light and went to bed alone. Sleep did not come easily. When it finally did, I dreamed of the border woods. Of a presence that did not belong to Kael. Of eyes that looked at me like I was still solid, still worth seeing. I woke with my heart beating too fast and the dream already slipping away. Downstairs the house was quiet again. Morning would bring the same kitchen, the same careful smiles, the same empty place beside Kael that no longer waited for me. I lay there in the dark and stared at the ceiling until the first gray light touched the window. Something in me had started to thin. I could feel it. Like fabric worn too long in the same spot. One day soon it would simply give way. I just did not know yet what would be standing on the other side when it did.