Chapter 19
KAI
Every time Kai walked into the throne room, his insides turned to lead. It had been over five months since his coronation, and still, it hadn’t gotten easier.
There had been no celebration that day. He didn’t recall much from the week—hell, the month—that followed his father and brother’s deaths, but he did remember that.
He hadn’t been sure why they hadn’t waited to crown him. At that point, he’d already been hurried through the Alpha Rite, where he was brought to near-death, saw the heavens, survived the “endless forest” to reach the Goddess, who blessed him with her power and “bore him anew.”
So, dealing with all the pomp of a coronation while everyone was still in mourning seemed unnecessary, even downright disrespectful, if he were being truthful.
He had been nothing but a puppet then, barely able to grasp any type of reality. Survival had been his only goal—it was all they needed him to do, frankly. Make it to the next day, then the next. Figure it all out as he went, or their kingdom would come crashing down. Just as much as his life had.
“Alpha Kai of Deimos!”
The boom of the High Elder’s voice proclaiming his imminent arrival brought him back to himself as he stood in the antechamber behind the throne room.
Kai swallowed the lump in his throat and steeled himself as he gave his sore shoulder one last rub.
Four elders clad in their signature pale blue robes, and two priestesses in their obsidian garb, with silver and moonstone circlets over their brows, stood before him.
Slowly and straight-backed, they began the procession into the sacred, cavernous space.
The scent of jasmine hit Kai first, the incense burning on the altar that lay a few feet before him as he crossed the archway. He was certainly getting sick of that foreboding smell. Every time he’d been around it, in a call to the goddesses, it hadn’t meant anything good.
But today…
When Kai focused his hearing, he couldn’t miss the crowd’s roar beyond the Northern Hall’s stone, and Goddess, did he wish he was out there to see it.
To see Isla’s face as she took it all in—the waving hands, the beaming grins, and the shouts of her name.
Guards lined the streets from the Pack Hall all the way down to Abalys.
He wasn’t going to let anything ruin this or threaten her today.
Seven steps lay between the ground and the dais, and the two thrones were perched on the inky marble platform, high above them all.
The seats themselves were simple, their darkness woven with gilded vines like veins, yes, but the true grandeur of the alpha and luna’s chairs lay in what surrounded them.
The stone had been carved with depictions of wolves, forests flourishing with life and their beginnings, below renderings of the Goddess, Fate, and Eternity.
The moon, the stars, and the night sky. Three women, three sisters, ethereal and eternal. Creator, Weaver, End. Always watching.
With the lunar rise, the crystals wedged into the stone seemed to pulse and glow, much like the ones in tunnel walls and those that lined Mavec’s streets. A phenomenon that made their kingdom unique.
A lilt of notes bounced off the walls as a steady hymn fluttered from the choir in the corner of the chamber.
On cue, the procession walking the curve of the fourth step divided, and without thinking, Kai’s body knew where to take him.
Up and up until his booted foot hit the sleek, night-dark marble, and he rose to the pinnacle of what may as well have been a mountain for how hard it felt to breathe.
For a moment, Kai paused, his eyes sliding over the two empty, glorious thrones, with only the goddesses dwelling above them.
The silver branches of his crown clawed deep into his scalp, sitting so heavy that he ducked his head.
Every time he came up here, he remembered his father.
He remembered Jaden. Remembered this seat was not his. Had never been his.
And yet still, he had to take it.
Every step to the throne felt like powering through quicksand. The crescendo of the choir faded to nothing but white noise because of the sound within him—a roaring that rivaled that of the crowd outside, a thrashing of something wild and haphazardly tamed against his ribcage.
You are no king.
Kai shook the thought, said in his father’s voice, out of his head. Shook off the weight of five months of suppressed feelings. Shook off the pain. Shook off the guilt and shame. He became numb.
His knees touched the edge of the metal, and he turned and took a seat.
All eyes were fixed on him.
He wasn’t sure how silence could be so Goddess-damn loud. How eyes and auras could scream at him, pounding against his skull so hard that he gritted his teeth.
His eyes drifted to where his mother stood, a soft grin on her face that did not appear as it had on the day of his coronation.
Back when he could see the grief, the facade she fought to maintain, so clearly in her eyes that he made a vow never to break.
He’d come the closest to that shattering point when Isla had nearly died.
You do not deserve this.
His chest constricted, his fingers tightening on the cool arms of the throne.
This room was too confined. There were too many people. Too many sights, smells, and sounds, too much havoc inside for this void to feast on as it fought to tear itself free, fought to tear him apart.
He sought out his friends, his family, any distraction amongst the spectators on the long wooden benches that had been brought in for observation, but each glance felt like leveling a blade at someone’s chest. One strike, and he’d cut too deep.
Pull back.
The double doors of the throne room opened, a gentle breeze sweeping through in their wake.
And there stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
All who had been seated, including him, rose to their feet, turning to Isla, who waited at the entrance. The two shifted wolves given the honor of escorting her—one of them Rhydian—dropped into low bows.
Isla was meant to step forward, but she froze, her eyes sweeping the crowd. She clenched and unclenched her fists before she clasped her hands. She was nervous, looking for her family.
“Isla.”
He didn’t think his call had made it to her, but something had. Isla lifted her eyes to his, and the distance between them vanished. They stood upon the broken road they had crafted once before, just a handsbreadth away from embracing, but enough for a phantom touch.
With a smile threatening his lips, Kai said, “Just focus on me.”
Isla’s head dipped in the slightest nod, then she straightened, knocked her shoulders back, and moved. Her cape trailed behind her like a sea of stars as she passed each observer, all of them gawking, dropping into bows, and not rising until she was well away.
Perfectly in sync with each of her movements, Kai descended the steps as she climbed. Asked and answered. Beginning and end. Until they met, finally, at the altar’s edge, where he took her soft hand in his.
As the two of them united, the choir ceased, and the room—the world—waited on bated breath.
The High Elder descended from where he had lingered just below Kai on the sixth step and threw out his arms. “Let us begin.”