Chapter 61 The Empty Throne
Three days passed before young Sera left her room.
Three days of Maya bringing meals. Three days of Kai sitting quietly beside her. Three days of tears that came without warning and grief that hit like waves crashing against rocks. Some moments she felt numb and hollow. At other moments the pain was so sharp she could barely breathe.
But each morning she got up. Each morning she ate something. Each morning she chose life, even when choosing life felt like the hardest thing in the world.
On the fourth day, Garrett appeared at her door.
He did not knock. Simply opened the door and filled the entire frame with his massive body. His warm brown eyes studied her carefully, reading her the way he always did. Seeing past the walls she built and the brave face she wore.
“You need to come with me,” he said.
“I am not ready to go anywhere.”
“I know. Come anyway.”
Something in his voice told young Sera this was not a request. Garrett rarely demanded things. He was gentle by nature, patient beyond measure. But when he spoke with that tone, people listened.
Young Sera stood slowly, pulling on a simple sweater and running her fingers through her tangled hair. She did not bother looking in the mirror. Did not care what she looked like. Everything felt distant and unimportant compared to the hollow ache in her chest.
Garrett led her through the pack house corridors in silence. The pack members they passed nodded respectfully, giving young Sera space without ignoring her completely. Small gestures of acknowledgement. A hand pressed briefly to the heart. A quiet bow of the head. Nothing that demanded a response but everything that said we see you and we are here.
They walked for several minutes before Garrett stopped outside a large set of doors at the end of a long hallway. Doors young Sera had seen before but never entered.
“The throne room?” young Sera asked, confusion breaking through her fog of grief.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Garrett did not answer. He simply pushed the doors open and stepped aside, gesturing for young Sera to enter.
The room was massive. Stone walls stretched upward to a ceiling so high it disappeared into shadow. Tall windows on either side let natural light pour in, creating columns of gold that crossed the dark stone floor. At the far end of the room, on a raised platform, sat two thrones carved from ancient wood.
One throne was occupied.
Kael sat in the left throne, his hands gripping the armrests tightly. His stormy grey eyes were dull and tired. Dark circles under his eyes spoke of nights without sleep. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense, carrying a weight that seemed to have grown heavier since young Sera last saw him.
The right throne was empty.
Young Sera stared at it. The empty throne where her grandmother had once sat. The throne that now belonged to no one. A hollow space in the room that mirrored the hollow space in young Sera’s chest.
“Why am I here?” young Sera asked again, her voice barely above a whisper.
Garrett moved to stand near Kael, creating a united front. Two men who had loved young Sera’s grandmother deeply. Two men who were carrying their own grief while trying to hold everything else together.
“Because the kingdom needs you,” Garrett said simply.
“I told the pack I was not ready. I said I needed time to figure out who I am before deciding about leadership.”
“You did. And that was fair. But time has a way of not waiting for people to be ready.” Garrett nodded toward Kael. “Tell her.”
Kael spoke for the first time, his voice rough and tired. “Victor Kane has sent a formal challenge. He is claiming that without a Luna Queen, the Northern Kingdom lacks legitimate leadership. He is demanding a summit within two weeks to discuss the future of this territory.”
Young Sera felt something cold settle in her stomach. “Victor Kane. The same Victor Kane who orchestrated your first mate’s death?”
“Yes.”
“The same Victor Kane who attacked us during the birth of your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“He is using my grandmother’s absence to make a power grab.”
“That is exactly what he is doing. And he will succeed if we do not respond.”
Young Sera looked at the empty throne again. The carved wood gleamed softly in the light streaming through the windows. Beautiful and patient and waiting.
“I am eighteen years old,” young Sera said. “I have never led anything more complicated than a school project. How am I supposed to face a rival Alpha King in a political summit?”
“You are not alone,” Garrett said. “Lyra, myself, Mora, the entire Royal Guard. We stand behind you. Guide you. Support you through every step. You do not have to do this by yourself.”
“But you need to be there,” Kael added. “Physically present. Sitting in that throne. Because Victor will challenge an empty throne. He will not challenge a young woman who stands in it.”
Young Sera understood the logic. Understood the politics. Understood that her grandmother had spent years building this kingdom and that Victor Kane would tear it apart piece by piece if given the chance.
But understanding something and being ready for it were very different things.
“Grandma handled situations like this for decades,” young Sera said. “She was powerful. Wise. Experienced. I am none of those things.”
“Your grandmother was not always those things either,” Kael said quietly. “She was young once. Scared once. Uncertain once. She learned. Grew. Made mistakes and recovered from them. You will do the same.”
“But she is not here to teach me anymore. Not here to guide me through this.”
Something shifted in Kael’s expression. Pain, deep and raw, flickered across his features before he controlled it. “No. She is not. And that is the cruellest part of what Victor is doing. He knows we are grieving. Knows we are vulnerable. He is striking now because he believes we are at our weakest.”
“Are we?”
Garrett and Kael exchanged a look. An honest look that told young Sera everything she needed to know without words being spoken.
“Yes,” Garrett admitted. “We are at our weakest. But weakness does not mean defeat. It means we have to be smarter. More united. More intentional about how we face this threat.”
Young Sera walked slowly toward the empty throne. Each step felt heavy, like she was walking through water. The wood was smooth under her fingertips when she finally reached it. Warm, despite the cold stone room around it.
She remembered her grandmother sitting here. Remembered watching her lead with quiet confidence and fierce compassion. Remembered thinking that leadership looked effortless when her grandmother did it.
It was not effortless. Young Sera understood that now. Her grandmother had carried fear and doubt and uncertainty every single day. Had made choices without knowing if they were right. Had led not because she was perfect but because she showed up anyway.
“If I do this,” young Sera said slowly, turning to face Kael and Garrett. “If I sit in this throne and face Victor Kane at his summit. I am not doing it because I am ready. I am not doing it because I feel confident or capable or strong.”
“Then why?” Kael asked.
“Because my grandmother gave up existence itself so I could choose life. And if I let Victor Kane destroy everything she built, everything she died to protect, then her sacrifice meant nothing. And I refuse to let that happen.”
The words hung in the air between them. Simple and clear and fierce.
Garrett nodded, something like pride warming his brown eyes. “That is enough. That is more than enough.”
Kael studied young Sera for a long moment. His stormy grey eyes were searching her face for something. Wavering perhaps. Fear perhaps. Any sign that she would crumble under the pressure about to fall on her shoulders.
Whatever he found seemed to satisfy him. He gave a single firm nod.
“Then we begin preparing today,” Kael said. “Two weeks is not much time. We need to understand Victor’s strategy. Need to strengthen our alliances. Need to present a united front that makes him reconsider his challenge.”
“Where do we start?” young Sera asked.
Lyra appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, amber eyes sharp and alert. She had clearly been listening. “We start with you learning everything you need to know about Victor Kane. His history. His motivations. His weaknesses. If you are going to face him, you need to understand him completely.”
“I thought you did not trust me,” young Sera said to Lyra. “You have never exactly been welcoming.”
Lyra held her gaze without flinching. “I did not trust you. I was afraid of you. Afraid another omega would destroy Kael the way Isabelle’s death nearly did. But you survived his wolf. You refused the Void Lords. You stood in that garden and told the pack to keep living.”
Lyra paused, something shifting behind her fierce eyes. “Your grandmother taught me that protection is not about keeping people safe from the world. It is about making them strong enough to face it. I am done trying to keep you safe. Starting now, I am going to make you ready.”
Young Sera looked at Lyra, then at Garrett, then at Kael. Three people who had served her grandmother faithfully. Three people who were now choosing to serve her with the same dedication.
Not because she deserved it yet. But because she was willing to earn it.
“Then teach me,” young Sera said. “Teach me everything. Make me ready. Because I am not letting Victor Kane destroy what she built. Not while I still have breath in my body.”
Kael stood from his throne slowly. Walked toward young Sera with deliberate steps. Stopped directly in front of her and looked down at the young woman who carried his mate’s legacy.
“Your grandmother would be proud,” he said quietly. “Not because you are sitting in that throne. But because you chose to sit in it for the right reasons.”
Young Sera swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat. “I hope so. Because right now I am terrified.”
“Good,” Garrett said with a small smile. “Terrified means you understand what is at stake. The ones who should worry about are the leaders who are not afraid of anything.”
Young Sera looked at the empty throne one final time. Then she turned her back on it and faced the room. Faced the people who would help her through what was coming. Faced the future that stretched ahead of her, uncertain and frightening and full of choices she had never imagined making.
“So,” young Sera said, squaring her shoulders. “Where do we start?”
Lyra stepped forward, already pulling documents from a leather case that young Sera had not noticed her carrying. “We start with Victor Kane. Everything he has done. Everything he wants. Everything that makes him afraid.”
“And what makes him afraid?” young Sera asked.
Lyra smiled. It was sharp and fierce and promised something dangerous.
“People who refuse to break.”
Young Sera thought of her grandmother. Of the woman who had survived death itself, who had watched from the space between for sixteen years, who had finally burned away completely to protect the people she loved.
A woman who had never once broken. Not truly. Not where it mattered.
Young Sera straightened her spine and lifted her chin.
“Then I guess I have some learning to do,” she said.
And the preparation began.