Chapter 18. The Throne Divided

The throne room was quiet—but not still.

It was the kind of silence that breathed, watched, waited.

Seraya sat in the carved obsidian seat, her mark dimmed to a soft pulse across her collarbone. She had not worn a crown—yet everyone looked at her as if she did. And now, beside her…
A second chair.
Identical.
Occupied.

Mairead sat with her spine straight, hands folded, eyes forward. The twin throne was not her demand—it had been offered. By Seraya. Publicly. After the bond test, when whispers of civil fracture began to slither between packs.

It had been necessary.
It was also a mistake.

Because wolves didn’t understand two thrones.
They smelled indecision.
They smelled weakness.

Rael shifted near the hall’s edge, watching the pack leaders file in. Some bowed to Seraya. Some to Mairead. Few