Sera
A knock at the door roused me from a fitful slumber. "Luna?" The guard's voice was muffled through the thick wood.
I sat up, pushing tangled hair from my eyes. "Enter."
The guard stepped inside, his face haggard. "The elders gather in the council chamber. The Alpha of Ashfell called the meeting at first light."
I straightened, not letting my face betray my anger. A guest had called council in my own keep, and without my consent. "Thank you. You may go."
Amara had risen from her place by the hearth, where she slept every night. She moved silently to my side as I rose from the bed and pulled on my cloak. I tied it tight at my throat, then turned to face the door.
The corridor was cold and dark. Amara followed a step behind, her bare feet silent on the flagstones. The council chamber was at the heart of the keep, and I was glad for the walk, to put my thoughts in order.
When we reached the heavy doors, I paused to listen. Chief Thorne's gruff voice came clearly through the wood.
"It's not my place to say who sits in the old man's chair. Let the Luna settle it herself when she deigns to come."
I pushed the doors open, striding inside. The circle of faces turned toward me, all pale and lined with sleep. Thorne broke off, his mouth agape.
The chamber was dim, lit only by the hearth fire. The round table sat in the center, the elders in their accustomed seats. But Vidar sat at ease in Kael's chair, his long legs crossed, a smile on his mouth. Behind him stood Gunnar, his eyes on the floor.
"That chair belongs to Kael," I said, my words sharp and cold.
Vidar Sarn inclined his head, his smile never wavering. "I am Kael's blood, Luna. Until my brother is found, House Kael still has a voice at this table. And that voice..." he spread his hands wide, broadening his smile, "...is mine."
The elders' eyes darted between us, measured and wary. One of the old men nodded, his grizzled face a map of wrinkles. "Only fair," he rasped.
"Only until Kael is found," I said.


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