The Pack's First Lady

I was halfway through breakfast when the guard outside my window changed.

Not unusual on its own. But this one was standing differently—shoulders back, spine straight, the kind of posture nobody maintained for an hour unless someone had told them to look sharp.

I set my bread down.

Three wolves I did not recognize were moving along the eastern path below. What the hell was going on? And why did those it seems they're preparing for a ceremonial?

I pushed back from the window and went to find out what was happening.

The corridor outside was busier than usual. A woman I had seen twice before in kitchen clothes was now in a clean pressed uniform, hair pinned tight. Two young pack members carried fresh flowers toward the main hall.

Fresh flowers… On a Tuesday?

I caught the arm of the nearest person, a young man with ink stains on his fingers. "What is going on?"

He blinked at me like I had asked him what rain was. "Lady Seraphine arrived at dawn," he said, and kept walking like that explained everything.

Before I could react to then, I heard the eastern doors open up. That solid double crack of heavy wood thrown open, then footsteps and the particular drop in conversation that happened when someone important entered a room.

Then the smell hit me.

The scent of something sweet. And underneath it settled another whiff, sharp like citric: Holding tales of a she-wolf everyone seemed to hold in high regards here in the palace. My wolf went rigid in my chest, a low bristle moving up the back of my neck before I had even turned the corner.

Then I saw her….

And oh my goddess…

She was tall with dark hair pulled back so severely it looked like a statement. Travel clothes that should have looked rumpled after a campaign and somehow did not. 

She moved through the hall and the pack around her shifted without thinking—heads inclined, shoulders dropped, a woman near the door smiling with relief like something that had been slightly wrong for two months had just been corrected.

Seraphine's eyes swept the room and found me.

The noise did not stop. Nobody froze. But something changed in the texture of the air, a half second of collective held breath, and in it I became very aware of my loose borrowed clothes, my stomach and the fruit stain on my sleeve I had not noticed until right now.

She gave me a wide smile. 

My wolf showed her teeth but I kept my face still.

"Lady Seraphine." Grayson stepped forward. "This is Lisa. The Alpha's mate."

Seraphine's hand was already extended before he finished the sentence. 

"Lisa." Her eyes dropped briefly to my stomach then came back up. "Welcome to the Dark Crescent Pack. I hope we have been taking good care of you."

We...? Not they?

"Everyone has been very kind," I said.

"Good." She squeezed my hand once and released it, and just like that three pack members were already at her shoulder with updates and questions. Then she turned to them with the ease of someone stepping back into a conversation that had never really stopped.

I stood where I was.

To my left a woman leaned toward her companion and murmured something low. Her companion's eyes cut briefly to me and away.

I did not need the words. The shape of the look was enough.

I had been receiving that look my whole life. It just used to be crueler.

Then there was a shift in the air pressure and a particular weight settled into the room.

Ragnar came through the side entrance still in his training clothes, and the hall rearranged itself around him the way it always did.

His eyes found Seraphine first.

He crossed to her. "Seraphine." His voice was even. The words that followed were appropriate and measured and there was not a single degree of warmth in any of them beyond what courtesy required.

Seraphine held her smile. "Ragnar. It is good to be home."

"How were the eastern territories?"

"Handled," she said. "I will brief you this evening if you have time."

"We will find time," he said, and that was it, that was all he gave her, and something in Seraphine's jaw tightened for just a moment before she smoothed it back into composure so fast most people would have missed it.

Ragnar turned.

"Lisa." His voice changed and was now…. Calmer. "How are you feeling."

"Fine," I said. "Maren's tonic is working."

The corner of his mouth moved. "Good."

He held my gaze a beat longer than the conversation required.

Three seconds.

The woman to my left had gone quiet.

Seraphine was very still.

Alright Lisa, just go back to your room. You have seen enough, retreat and process it somewhere private.

I walked to the long table in the common room off the main hall and sat down.

One of the kitchen women appeared. "Can I get you anything?"

"Something to eat. Whatever is easy."

She nodded and left.

I sat with my hands flat on the table and looked out the window at the afternoon light crossing the grounds. Twenty minutes passed. Maybe more.

The door behind me opened.

And I felt that cedar scent again. 

Seraphine's voice filled the room, talking to two women about supply routes from the eastern territories. 

She obviously had easy authority and definitely the kind that never needed volume behind it.

She passed behind me. I did not turn around to know that.

The kitchen woman set a plate in front of me. 

I picked up a piece of bread, took a bite, chewed slowly, and kept my eyes on the window while Seraphine's voice moved through the room and out the other side.

The door clicked shut.

I reached for another piece of bread with trembling hands and stayed exactly where I was. I had a feeling her return was going to change the course of my life here.