Chapter 96: The Fourth Chair

Seraphine's POV

The dirt under my nails felt grounding. Real.

I knelt in the herb garden, trimming back the mint that threatened to choke the thyme. The spring sun warmed my back. My hands moved automatically. Clip. Pull. Toss the dead leaves aside.

This garden had become my sanctuary.

Here, I could forget. For a few hours, at least. Forget that Lyralei was missing. Forget that Ember died because of me. Forget the weight of three wolf packs now bound together by my existence.

I sat back on my heels. Wiped sweat from my forehead with my sleeve.

The garden burst with life. Green shoots pushing through dark soil. Buds swelling on the rose bushes. Everything waking up, reaching toward the light.

"You've been out here for hours."

I looked up. Cordelia stood at the garden's edge, holding a wicker basket. Her expression was gentle but firm.

"I'm fine," I said automatically.

"Liar." She walked over, set the basket down. "I brought tea. And scones. You need to eat something."

My stomach twisted. "I'm not hungry."

"I don't care." She pulled out a checkered cloth, spread it on the grass nearby. "Come sit."

I stayed where I was. Dirt on my knees. Pruning shears in my hand.

Cordelia waited. Patient. Unmovable.

Finally, I sighed. Set down the shears. Pushed to my feet.

We sat on the cloth. She poured tea from a thermos into two cups. The steam carried honey and chamomile. She'd added wildberries to the scones.

"You're the only friend I have here," I said quietly.

Cordelia's eyes softened. "Then let me be your friend. Take a break. Eat."

I picked up a scone. It crumbled in my fingers. Warm. Buttery.

We ate in silence for a while. The sun moved across the sky. Birds called from the trees beyond the garden wall.

Cordelia finished her tea. Set down the cup. "How did last night's meeting go?"

I swallowed hard. "They agreed to the alliance. All three Alphas signed the blood pact."

"That's good news."

"Is it?" I stared at my hands. "Three wolf packs are now targets because of me."

"They're targets because Damien is a monster." Her voice went sharp. "Don't twist this."

I didn't answer.

Cordelia poured more tea. "Did anything unusual happen?"

I thought about it. "There was an empty chair. A fourth one."

Her expression flickered. Something like sadness crossed her face.

"For who?" I asked.

She set down the teapot carefully. "Alpha Theron. Lord of Stormcrest pack in southern Shadowmere."

My eyebrows rose. "There's another Alpha?"

"Technically, yes. But he never attends meetings. Never participates in pack affairs." She wrapped her hands around her cup. "Stormcrest territory is the most isolated part of Shadowmere. Miles of southern forest. All of it trapped and warded."

"Why?"

Cordelia's voice dropped. "His wife and three children were killed in an ambush. Ten years ago. Rogues and hunters working together."

My breath caught.

"He found them too late. By the time he arrived, they were already gone." Her eyes went distant. "He blamed himself. Said he should have been there to protect them."

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

I knew that feeling. That guilt. That rage at yourself for surviving when they didn't.

"After the funerals, he took his remaining wolves and retreated deeper into Stormcrest lands." Cordelia's voice was barely a whisper now. "Built walls. Set traps. Surrounded himself with mist and silence."

"Has anyone tried to reach him?"

"Kaelen sent letters before. Invitations to meetings. Updates on pack business." She shook her head. "Theron never responds."

I stared at the roses Kaelen had planted for me. Their buds tight. Not yet blooming.

"He lost everything," I said softly.

"Yes."

Just like me.

The thought crashed through my carefully built walls.

My hands started shaking. The teacup rattled against the saucer. I set it down before I dropped it.

"I'm the reason this alliance exists." The words spilled out. Raw. Jagged. "Three wolf packs are in danger because of me."

"Seraphine—"

"Ember was ten years old." My voice cracked. "A child. She died because those fucking wolves came for me."

The grief surged up. Choking. Drowning.

"I'm just a runaway." I pressed my hands to my face. "A refugee. I'm not worth—"

"Stop." Cordelia's hand clamped onto my shoulder. Hard. "Listen to me."

I looked up through blurred vision.

Her eyes blazed. "You are part of Shadowmere now. That makes you pack. And packs protect their own. That's not a burden. That's who we are."

"But people are dying—"

"People die in war. That's the fucking reality." Her grip tightened. "But we don't sacrifice pack members to avoid conflict. That's not how wolves survive."

I shook my head. Couldn't speak.

"Look around you." She gestured at the garden. "Who built this house? Who chose those books in your room? Who planted these roses?"

"Kaelen," I whispered.

"Right. Because you're his. His pack. His responsibility. His choice." She leaned closer. "Protecting you isn't a favor. It's pack law. It's instinct. It's what gives our lives meaning."

Tears spilled over. Hot. Angry.

"I don't deserve it."

"That's not for you to decide."

The memory crashed through me. Unbidden. Unwanted.

Yesterday. Ember's funeral. The eight white-covered bodies.

I'd stood there in my black dress. Kaelen's arm around my waist keeping me upright.

The Elder spoke in the old language. Words I didn't understand but felt in my bones. Final. Absolute.

Then Kaelen had climbed onto the platform. Praised Cordelia and me as warriors. Called us brave.

But before anyone could process that—I'd moved. Climbed up beside him.

Faced hundreds of wolves.

Told them the truth. That the hunters came for me. That Ember died because of me.

The silence had been deafening.

Then Cordelia climbed up. Defended me. Said Shadowmere doesn't sacrifice its own.

But Vespera's voice cut through everything else.

"Why don't we just throw her out? She stays here, more of us die!"

Those words had hit like physical blows.

Some people in the crowd had looked away. Uncomfortable. Unwilling to meet my eyes.

Others had nodded. Agreeing.

Kaelen had said one word. "Enough."

Then he'd stepped beside me. A wall at my back.

But I'd felt it. The division. The resentment. The fear.

"At the funeral," I said quietly. "Vespera wanted me gone. And she wasn't the only one."

Cordelia didn't deny it. "Some people are afraid. Fear makes them stupid."

"She was right though." I pulled my knees to my chest. "I've been here less than two months. And look what's happened."

I counted on my fingers. "I tried to escape. Got caught. Then the Moon Festival—"

I stopped. Shit.

I'd told Cordelia I hadn't gone to that party. That I'd stayed home.

The lie hung between us now. Obvious. Awkward.

Cordelia's eyes met mine. Something flickered there. Understanding, maybe. She knew I'd lied. Had probably known all along.

But she didn't call me out. Just waited.

I looked away. Cleared my throat. "Then the poisoned bread. Damien's invasions. Funeral of Ember and warriors who died for me."

"Maybe I'll never really belong here."