I Tasted a King

The first time I realized I was no longer the Luna of my own home… Was when I didn’t recognize my place at the table. It was a small thing. So small no one else would have noticed. But I did. Because that seat—at the right hand of the Alpha—had once been mine. The dining hall glowed with warmth, lit by chandeliers that cast golden light across polished wood and silver. The scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spiced wine wrapped around the room like comfort. It should have felt like home. It didn’t. Not anymore. I paused at the entrance, fingers tightening around the soft fabric of my dress. The silk suddenly felt too heavy against my skin, like it didn’t belong to me either. Laughter drifted toward me—light, easy, familiar. For a moment, I just stood there. Watching. Like an outsider looking in on a life that used to be mine. The pack had already gathered. Elders were seated with quiet authority. Warriors relaxed but alert. Advisors speak in low, purposeful tones. And at the head of the table— Kael. My mate. My Alpha. The bond between us should have pulled me forward, should have warmed my chest, should have whispered home. Instead… it was quiet. Too quiet. My gaze lingered on him longer than I meant it to. He looked the same. Powerful. Untouchable. Entirely in control. Dark hair slightly tousled, broad shoulders relaxed as he listened to someone speak. His presence filled the room like it always had—commanding, undeniable. He didn’t need to try. He never had to try. Once… that presence had been mine to stand beside. Now… I wasn’t even sure where I stood. And then I saw her. Seraphine. She sat on his right. In my seat. For a second, the world didn’t shatter. It didn’t explode or collapse or demand attention. It just… shifted. Quietly. Permanently. My breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat, refusing to move. Seraphine’s posture was perfect—graceful, composed, soft in a way that drew attention without demanding it. Her pale dress flowed around her like she belonged there. Like she had always belonged there. “I wasn’t sure if I should sit here,” she said softly, her voice carrying just enough humility to be heard. “It didn’t feel right to take Elara’s place…” The words were careful. Measured. Placed exactly where they needed to be. Kael didn’t even hesitate. “You’re family,” he said. Simple. Final. “You belong here.” Belong. The word echoed in my chest like something hollow. I waited. Just for a second. For him to look at me. To notice. To correct it. To say my name. He didn’t. The moment passed like it had never mattered. Like I had never mattered. My feet moved before I told them to, carrying me forward into the room. The sound of my heels against the floor was sharper than usual, echoing just enough to draw a few glances. Not concern. Not curiosity. Just acknowledgment. The kind you give someone who exists… but doesn’t affect anything. “Luna,” one of the elders greeted, dipping his head politely. The title felt wrong. Too heavy. Too empty. Like wearing a crown made of air. I nodded faintly, my eyes drifting back to Kael. Still nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition that something was off. That something had changed. That I had been replaced. “Where would you like me to sit?” I asked. The words tasted bitter the moment they left my mouth. I shouldn’t have had to ask. A flicker of something crossed Kael’s face—brief, unreadable. “There’s an open seat further down,” he said. Casual. Dismissive. Done. Further down. Away from him. Away from where I used to belong. “Of course,” I said quietly. Because what else was there to say? I turned, walking the length of the table. Every step felt like I was leaving something behind. Something important. Something I couldn’t name… but could feel slipping through my fingers all the same. I passed familiar faces. People who had once looked to me for guidance. For reassurance. For leadership. Now, their attention drifted past me like I wasn’t worth holding onto. By the time I reached the empty seat, the room had already moved on. Conversations resumed. Laughter returned. Life continued. Like nothing had changed. But everything had. I sat down slowly, smoothing my dress over my lap as I stared at the plate in front of me. Untouched. Perfect. Pointless. From here, Kael looked… distant. Not just physically. Emotionally. Like there was a space between us that hadn’t been there before. Seraphine leaned toward him again, her voice soft as she spoke. Her shoulder brushed his. Light. Intentional. He didn’t move away. Something twisted in my chest. Not sharp enough to be angry. Not loud enough to cause jealousy. Just… quiet pain. The kind that settles in slowly. The kind that stays. I used to sit there. I used to be the one he leaned toward. The one he spoke to first. The one he chose—without thinking. Now… I wasn’t even part of the conversation. “Eat.” His voice cut through my thoughts. I blinked, startled, realizing he was looking at me. Just for a moment. Just long enough to give an order. “I will,” I said softly. He nodded once. Already turning away. Already gone. I picked up my fork. Held it. Set it down again. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t anything. Across the table, Seraphine’s child laughed—a bright, innocent sound that filled the room. Lior. He leaned into Kael’s side naturally, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it was where he belonged. Kael’s hand rested briefly on the boy’s shoulder. Protective. Familiar. Easy. My stomach tightened. Once… that touch had been mine too. I lowered my gaze, staring at my hands in my lap. They felt empty. Useless. Unclaimed. Around me, the pack carried on. Talking. Laughing. Living. And I sat there— In my own home. At my own table. Beside my own mate. Feeling like a stranger. The bond between us flickered faintly in my chest. Weak. Distant. Like something fading. And for the first time… That scared me. Because bonds like ours weren’t supposed to fade. They were supposed to be unbreakable. Unshakable. Permanent. So why did this one feel like it was slipping through my fingers? At the head of the table, Kael leaned closer to Seraphine again as she whispered something to him. His lips curved. Just slightly. But enough. More than I had seen in weeks. My chest tightened. And something inside me— Something that had been holding on, waiting, hoping— Finally, cracked. If I disappeared… The thought came quietly. Softly. Dangerously. Would anyone even notice? I lifted my gaze one last time. Just to look at him. To see if there was anything left. Anything at all. There wasn’t. And at that moment— I realized something far more terrifying than being replaced. I was being forgotten.