Chapter 3
The next morning, I arrived early for the weekly council meeting.
I had slept at the treatment center after spending half the night pretending the examination-room cot was more comfortable than my own bed. Kellan had sent one message.
We will talk when you are ready to be reasonable.
I had not answered.
The council chamber was nearly full when Lyra entered carrying a cup of coffee for Kellan. She wore a borrowed pack jacket over her dress. The sleeves covered her hands.
No one questioned why she was there.
She crossed the room as if she remembered every step and set the coffee beside Kellan's papers.
Then she sat in my chair.
The Luna's seat stood beside the Alpha's at the head of the table. Even the youngest guard in the room knew what it meant.
Silence moved through the chamber.
Lyra looked around. "Is something wrong?"
I stopped just inside the doorway.
Part of me wanted to make her move. Another part could already hear what people would say afterward.
Her husband had just died.
Erin could have shown kindness.
Kellan looked up from his papers.
For one terrible second, he said nothing.
Then he closed the folder in front of him.
"Lyra, get up."
Her face changed. "I was only waiting for you."
"That seat belongs to my wife."
The quiet authority in his voice left no room for argument.
Lyra stood.
Kellan looked directly at me. "Erin."
He pulled out the chair.
Every eye in the chamber followed me as I crossed the floor and sat beside him. Relief loosened something inside my chest.
He had seen the problem.
He had chosen to defend me.
The meeting passed in a blur of supply reports and patrol schedules. Kellan did not ask Lyra to stay. She left before the first report was finished, her cheeks pale with embarrassment.
By the time the council adjourned, guilt had begun to replace my anger.
Kellan found me gathering my notes.
"I spoke to her," he said.
"You did?"
"I told her your place beside me isn't hers to take."
The bond between us warmed with his sincerity. For the first time since the anniversary dinner, I let myself breathe.
"Thank you."
His expression softened. "You never needed to doubt that."
Perhaps I had been unfair. Perhaps grief had made Lyra careless and pressure had made Kellan clumsy. Neither mistake had to mean our marriage was breaking.
I touched his hand.
He turned his palm beneath mine and laced our fingers together.
"Come home tonight," he said. "We'll talk properly."
I nodded.
As we left the council chamber, I saw Lyra at the far end of the corridor. She lowered her gaze when she saw our joined hands.
Kellan did not release me.
For the first time in days, I believed my marriage was safe.