TO SATE AN ALPHA'S FURY

Elara's POV

The sight of Alaric in the kitchen was a brand on my eyes. I left the kitchen. I moved through dark halls. My silk skirts hit the stone.

I watched the Alpha King lose his dignity. He wore bells. He danced for a nameless girl.

The pain felt heavy. I reached my chamber. I breathed fast. I did not call my maids. I hid my tears. I grabbed a dark coat with a hood. I covered my face. I had to strike. Before the rot Alaric called "love" destroyed everything I had built.

I used the side door. I moved in shadows. I headed for the east wing. I reached the quarters of Grand Prince Magnus.

Magnus was Alaric's uncle. The court saw him as a drunk. They thought he was useless. But I knew better. I knew his hunger for power. I knew the steel behind his lazy smile.

I reached his double doors. I slipped inside without a knock. The room smelled of old oak and heavy spice.

Magnus was sitting by the fire. A silver chalice in his hand. He looked up. His eyes sharp despite the dim light.

"Lady Elara?" his voice was a low purr.

"You visit at a dangerous hour. If the guards see you here. Your reputation will be ashes by sunrise."

"No one saw me." I snapped.

I pulled the hood back. My hair was a mess of gold tangles.

"I have no choice, Magnus. We are in trouble."

He leaned back. He swirled the liquid in his cup.

"Why the sudden visit? Did our King grow tired of your company?"

"He is distracted." I hissed.

Pacing the floor. "He is losing interest in me. He is obsessed with that... that ghost chef. Tonight, he wore bells for her. He danced in the kitchen like a common jester. And worse, he has threatened me. He vowed to find evidence of my plots against her. He is looking for the strings, Magnus. If he finds them, they lead to me. And if they lead to me, they lead to you."

Magnus let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. He shook his head as if I were a child crying over a broken toy.

"At least I am not seen as a threat." He said.

His voice dripping with mock humility.

"I am the useless uncle. Too stupid for politics. Too drunk for power. Even if you are caught, Elara, the Alpha will never look at me. I am invisible in my mediocrity. I can still go on with the plan while you rot in the dungeon."

I froze. Cold fury washed over me.

"Are you telling me you are just using me? That I am your shield while you wait for the throne?"

Magnus smiled. It was a slow, terrifying expression. He stood up and walked toward me. The firelight casted long shadows across his face.

"I am joking, little viper. Do not lose your nerve. I have many plans. They are like the gears of a clock. If one gear breaks, the others still turn. One way or another, Blackwood will have a new hand on the rudder."

"I need his attention back." I whispered.

My voice trembling. "I need him to remember who I am. He looks at her as if she holds the secrets of the universe."

Magnus reached out and tilted my chin up.

"The girl uses food to confuse his senses. It is a primitive but effective tool. If she uses flavor, you must use it too. Prepare something special for him. A meal that reminds him of the luxury of his station. Not the dirt of the commoners."

"I am not a cook." I spat.

"You are a woman of resources." Magnus countered.

"I will visit Alaric tomorrow. I will speak highly of you. The Alpha still listens to me because he thinks I have no ambition. I will remind him of your loyalty. But you must do your part."

He nudged me toward the door.

"Leave now. Before the moon sets. No one must see the future Queen in the room of a 'drunkard'."

"My loyalty lies with you, Magnus." I reminded him. "Do not forget that."

"I never forget a debt." He replied.

I slipped back into the hall. I did not go to my chambers. I headed for the basement levels. The air was cold and smelled of damp earth.

I reached the servants' quarters. These rooms were small. Cramped. Foul. I stopped at a door at the end of the hall. I kicked it open.

Chef Damien sat on a small stool. He was sharping a knife.

He was a bitter man. He had deep lines around his mouth. He had expected to be the Chief Royal Chef. He had been passed over for a girl who fell from a tree.

"Lady Elara?" he stammered. He stood up quickly.

"Sit down, Damien." I commanded.

I stepped into the room. The shadows of my hood masking my eyes.

"I know you are not pleased. I know you hate the 'ghost' as much as I do."

Damien's grip tightened on his knife.

"She knows nothing of our traditions. She uses strange herbs. She insults the craft."

"I want you to cook a meal." I said. "The best meal the King has ever tasted. I want it to be a masterpiece of tradition and elegance. Something that makes him realize what he is missing in that girl's kitchen."

"The King has ordered only her food." Damien whispered.

"The King will eat what I bring him." I said.

"And if you succeed, Damien. I will see to it that you become the Chief Royal Chef. The girl will be removed. One way or another."

Damien's eyes lit up with a greedy fire.

"I can do it. I have a recipe from the old lands. It requires time. It requires the finest cuts."

"Do it." I told him.

"And keep your mouth shut. If a word of this reaches the Alpha, I will have your tongue."

We discussed the details in hushed tones. He agreed. I left the quarters. I moved quickly. My heart hammered.

I reached my chambers. I slipped inside. I stripped off the dark coat. I lay in my bed. I stared at the ceiling.

I am a daughter of a noble house. I am feared by the elders. A girl who smells of smoke will not replace me.

Sophie's POV

The silence at the royal farm was heavy. I laid on Alaric's chest. It was a long moment.

I could hear his heart beat. Just beneath his tunic. It was steady. A powerful rhythm. His hands stayed on my waist. I saw his golden eyes. It reflected the moon.

Our faces were an inch apart. I felt the heat radiating from him. I scrambled to my feet.

"I'm sorry. I thought you would hit the stone." I said.

Alaric stood up.

He brushed off the soil. His face remained calm. He looked at me. In a way that made my skin tingle.

"It is okay. You tried to catch me from falling." Alaric said.

I looked at my shoes.

I tried to find words.

"I just... I did not want you to get hurt. Especially not over a plant."

"You have a strange way of protecting your King, Sophie." Alaric said.

A small smile touched his lips.

"Most people run from my fall. You threw yourself into it."

"I am a chef. We are used to catching falling things before they shatter." I replied.

A guard stepped from the shadows. He bowed low. He handed a small, sealed note to the King.

Alaric broke the wax. He read the words aloud.

"Grand Prince Magnus wants to dine tomorrow. He is my uncle. He is a man of high standards and low patience." Alaric said.

He looked back at me. His eyes were serious again.

"Go to bed, Sophie. You must be rested. I want you to prepare something nice for me and the Grand Prince in the morning. It must be special. Magnus believes the old ways are the only ways. Show him he is wrong." Alaric commanded.

"I will prepare a meal he will never forget." I promised.

"See that you do. Your position depends on the satisfaction of the crown." Alaric said.

I nodded and left. I walked back to the palace. My mind was already a whirlwind of flavors. I did not sleep.

I sat in my small room. I planned the menu. I needed something traditional. With a taste of the future.

The next morning, I entered the kitchen. The sun was not fully up. The air was cold. It smelled of damp stone. I clapped my hands. I got the attention of the drowsy staff.

"Martha, prep the root vegetables. Silas, stoke the main hearth. We have a Grand Prince to feed. The Alpha King expects perfection!" I shouted.

The kitchen came to life. The sound of knives hitting wooden boards filled the room.

I moved toward the central table. I began assigning tasks.

"Martha, I need these greens washed three times. Silas, watch the temperature of that oven. If it drops, the crust will be soggy." I said.

Chef Damien stepped into my path. He held a large carving knife. He looked at me with a sneer.

"Lady Elara told me to make the food for the King and the Grand Prince. She wants the old recipes. She wants blood and fat. Move aside, ghost." Damien said.

I stood firm. I did not blink. I was tired of being pushed around in my own kitchen.

"The Alpha instructed me personally to prepare something special. I am the Chief Royal Chef by his decree. I will do my job. You can assist me, or you can stay out of my way." I said.

Damien laughed. It was a dry, mocking sound.

"You think a few words from the King make you one of us? You are a girl in a costume. Lady Elara knows the heart of this pack. She gave me her seal to lead this meal." Damien said.

"Then we have a conflict of orders." I replied.

"But since the King's word sits above the Lady's, I am staying at this hearth. Go cook your grease on the side stove if you must."

Damien turned to his station.

He muttered. "We will see who the King prefers. Your strange tricks or my tradition. When the Grand Prince spits out your grass, do not look to me for help."

I ignored him.

I worked for four hours. I prepared a dish of breaded poultry. I used a secret technique from my father. I used ground nuts and dried herbs for the coating.

I fried it until it was golden. It was crunchy on the outside. It was incredibly soft and juicy on the inside.

I began to plate the food. I used white ceramic dishes. I arranged the vegetables with precision.

"It looks beautiful, Sophie." Martha whispered. She leaned in to smell the steam. "I have never seen food look like art."

"It has to be perfect, Martha. Everything is on the line today." I said.

Just then, the heavy doors swung open.

The smell of expensive perfume drowned out the scent of my spices.

Lady Elara walked in. She wore a dress of emerald silk. Morgana followed her like a shadow. Elara saw the two different trays.

"Why are there two different meals being prepared, Damien?" Elara asked. Her voice was like ice.

Damien bowed low.

"Sophie insisted on making her own meal, My Lady. I told her your instructions. I told her the Grand Prince expects the traditional feast of the Blackwood. She refused to listen. She said her way was better."

I wiped my hands on my apron and stepped forward. I kept my voice steady.

"The King told me last night to prepare something special. I am following the Alpha's command." I said.

Morgana moved close to me. She was so close I could see the malice in her eyes.

"Why are you looking at Lady Elara while talking? You lack manners. You are a common servant. Lower your gaze when you speak to your betters." Morgana spat.

"I am not looking at her in any way but a direct one. I am answering a question about the King's dinner." I replied.

Elara stepped into my space. She was taller than me in her heels. She looked down her nose at me.

"You are rude. You have guts for a girl with no family. I have seen many like you come and go through these halls. Those who challenge my authority do not last." Elara said.

"The King gave me this kitchen. He gave me the right to cook for him." I said.

"The King is a man of habits. Habits return to the familiar when the novelty wears off." Elara whispered.

She looked at my tray. She looked at the beautiful plates I had spent all morning creating. A cold smile touched her lips.

"It would be a shame if the King was disappointed." Elara said.

She turned to leave.

She did not walk away slowly. She moved with a sudden, sharp jerk. Her heavy silk dress caught the edge of my tray.

She did not stop. She dragged the metal tray with her.

The sound was a deafening crash.

The plates hit the stone floor. The ceramic shattered into a thousand white teeth.

The poultry, the sauce, and the greens smeared across the dirty floor. My work was a ruin of glass and grease.

"Oh! Look at what you have done!" Elara screamed.

She pointed her finger at the mess.

"You are so clumsy. You placed your tray in the path of a Noble. You have no grace. You have ruined the King's floor with your incompetence."

I stared at the floor. My hands trembled. "You dragged it, My Lady. You pulled the tray down."

"How dare you lie!" Morgana shouted.

"You were careless. You tripped over your own feet because you cannot handle the pressure of a royal kitchen."

Elara looked at the hem of her dress. A small drop of sauce had landed on the green silk. She made a face of pure disgust.

"My dress is stained by your filth." Elara said.

She looked at Morgana.

"Come, Morgana. We must go to my chambers for a change of clothes. I cannot stand the smell of this failure any longer."

"Yes, My Lady. This place is beneath you." Morgana said sarcastically.

They walked out. Their heels clicked on the stone like a countdown.

The kitchen fell into a dead silence.

Then, Martha ran to the mess. She dropped to her knees. Her hands shook as she reached for a piece of broken plate.

Martha shouted. Her voice was high and panicked.

"What do we do? Sophie, look at this! It is all gone! The Alpha and the Grand Prince are at the table now. She destroyed the special meal!"

Elara's POV

I stood in my chambers. Morgana fumbled with the laces of my backup corset. The emerald silk was ruined.

A single drop of that commoner's sauce had dared to touch my skin.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I felt a surge of triumph that tasted better than any wine. I had crushed her.

I had watched her masterpiece shatter into a million jagged pieces on the cold stone floor.

"Did you see her face, Morgana?" I asked.

I smoothed the skirts of my new sapphire gown.

"She looked like a wounded animal. She actually thought her little tricks could withstand me."

"She was pathetic, My Lady." Morgana laughed.

She adjusted my silver hairpins.

"The way she tried to blame you was the best part. As if anyone would believe a ghost over a daughter of the High Pack."

"She is a nuisance." I said.

I looked at my reflection. I looked regal. I looked like a Queen.

"A nuisance that has been handled. Alaric will see Damien's traditional meal. He will remember what real power tastes like. He will forget that girl by the second course."

"We should hurry." Morgana said.

"The Grand Prince is already seated. You must be there to guide the conversation."

I nodded. I swept out of the room. I felt light. I felt invincible.

We entered the Great Hall. Alaric sat at the head of the long oak table. He looked tired. His golden eyes were dim.

To his right sat Grand Prince Magnus. The Prince looked bored. He played with a silver ring on his finger.

"Grand Prince Magnus." I said.

I curtsied low.

"It is an honor to have you at the Blackwood Palace."

"Lady Elara." Magnus said.

His voice was a slow drawl.

"I hear you have taken a personal interest in the menu tonight. I hope the food is as sharp as your reputation."

"I have prepared something truly special for the Alpha." I said.

I sat beside Alaric. I leaned in close to him.

"You've been unwell, Alaric. The fits have been draining your strength. I instructed Damien to prepare a cold chicken dish. It is served with chilled herbs to relax your nerves and cool your blood."

Alaric looked at the silver platter Damien placed before him. He did not look impressed.

"My doctor came to check on me this morning, Elara." Alaric said.

His voice was flat.

"He told me to avoid cold food. He said my internal fire is unstable. Cold food will only cause my muscles to seize again."

The triumph in my chest turned to ice. I felt my face go hot.

I turned to Magnus. I needed a rescue.

"But Alaric." Magnus said.

He coughed into his hand.

"That does not mean you will not eat her food. She put a lot of effort into making this for you. She is a Noble of this court. You should at least have a taste to show your appreciation for her care."

Alaric nodded. He picked up his fork. He looked toward the heavy doors of the hall.

The doors swung open.

I froze.

Sophie walked in. She was not crying. She was not covered in grease. She carried a steaming tray.

Behind her, Martha and Silas followed with extra plates. My hands gripped the edge of the table.

"How?" I whispered.

I looked at Morgana. Morgana looked as if she had seen a ghost.

Sophie reached the table. She looked at me. She did not look afraid. She gave me a look that asked how my plan was working.

It was a look of pure, silent defiance.

"Ah." Alaric said.

His eyes brightened.

The gold seemed to return to his gaze.

"The Chief Royal Chef has arrived."

Magnus leaned forward. He adjusted his spectacles.

"Yes. The ghost chef I have been hearing of. I would love to taste her food. I want to know for sure that she is a genius just as others have testified."

"You will see, Uncle." Alaric said.

He turned to Sophie.

"What have you prepared for us?"

"I have prepared a poultry dish, Your Majesty." Sophie said.

Her voice was clear. It carried through the hall.

"It is crunchy on the outside and extremely soft on the inside. It is served hot from the pan."

"That should be okay." Alaric said.

He looked at the steam rising from her tray.

"I would love to eat this food. I can see the smoke coming from it. It indicates that the ingredients are still alive with heat."

Alaric made a move to start.

He paused.

He waited for his uncle. Magnus looked at me. He saw my frustration. He wanted to be polite.

"I will start with Lady Elara's dish first." Magnus said.

"Out of respect for the tradition."

Alaric followed. They both took a bite of the cold chicken.

"Mmm." Magnus said. He chewed slowly.

"It is delicious, Elara. The herbs are very distinct."

"Yes. It is well made." Alaric added.

I gave Sophie a look of victory. I raised my chin. I told her with my eyes that I would always win. I was the tradition. She was the interloper.

Sophie just rolled her eyes. She looked bored by my posturing.

Then they reached for her plates.

Alaric took a bite.

The sound of the crunch was audible across the room.

He froze. His eyes widened. He chewed slowly. A smile started to spread across his face. He let out a long, deep sound of satisfaction.

"Mmmmmm."

Magnus followed. He took a large bite. He closed his eyes.

"This is exquisite." Alaric said.

"It is soft inside and extremely crunchy outside. I have never felt this sensation in a single bite."

"The sauce." Magnus said. He looked at his plate with confusion.

"The sauce was bitter when it hit my tongue. But when it got to my throat, it became sweet. How is this possible?"

Sophie stepped forward. She did not bow. She stood like an equal.

"The sauce was made from the roots of trees and specific vegetables, Your Highness." Sophie explained.

"It is good for the body. We most times overlook these ingredients because they are difficult to balance. The bitterness cleanses the palate. The sweet finish comes from the natural sugars in the vegetables."

"Two sauces?" Magnus asked. He saw a second small bowl on his tray.

"Yes." Sophie said.

"The other sauce is sweet because it was made from vegetables only. It provides a different experience for the poultry."

Magnus dipped a piece of the crunchy chicken into the sweet sauce. He ate it and laughed.

"You are a genius." Magnus said.

"Alaric, you did not exaggerate. This girl has a gift."

I watched them. I sat there with my sapphire dress and my noble blood. They were eating all of her food. They had pushed my cold chicken to the side. They had only eaten half of mine. They were scraping her plates.

Alaric looked at Sophie. He looked at her with a heat that had nothing to do with the food.

He was looking at her as if she were the only woman in the room. He was looking at her as if she were his Queen.

I felt the rage bubbling in my stomach. It was a hot, stinging poison. I had tried to break her. I had destroyed her work.

But she simply reached into the stores and produced a miracle. She was making me look like a fool in front of the Grand Prince.

"It is just a trick of the tongue." I said. My voice was sharp.

"Traditional food sustains the body. This is just a novelty."

"If this is a novelty Elara, then I am tired of being bored." Magnus said.

He did not even look at me. He was too busy asking Sophie for a second helping.

Sophie looked at me. She saw my anger. She saw the way my nails were digging into the wood of the table. She gave me a small, knowing smile.

I leaned forward. I narrowed my eyes. I didn't care about the Grand Prince anymore. I didn't care about the decorum.

I looked at Sophie. I let all of my hatred show in my gaze.

I will make sure you don't last here.

I said the words with my eyes. I made sure she saw the promise of my fire.

I would not just expel her. I would not just shame her.

I would destroy the very ground she stood on.