TO SATE AN ALPHA'S FURY

Alaric POV

Alpha Stone finally agreed that the competition should hold. He is playing with fire. It will surely burn him.

I know his pack is struggling. I know he wants our herbs and grains to feed his dying borders. But I am the Alpha of the Blackwood Kingdom. I do not lose.

My ancestors built these walls on the bones of those who underestimated us. I felt the wolf within me pace. It sensed the coming conflict.

I called for Cassian. I told him to send for all the elders and cooks. I wanted everyone to hear the terms of this battle.

This was not just a kitchen match. It was a treaty signed in salt and blood. I stood by the window of the great hall. I watched the servants scurry below.

They were moving benches and clearing the floor. The tension in the palace was a physical weight. It hung in the damp air of the corridors.

Everyone gathered in no time. The great hall was filled to the brim. The air felt hot from the breath of many wolves.

I stood before the throne. I looked at the sea of faces. I saw the northern chefs standing with their arms crossed.

Their leather aprons were worn. Their knives were polished. They looked like soldiers. I saw the elders whispering in the corners. They looked worried. They smelled of old parchment and anxiety.

"A competition will be happening between the Moon Crescent Kingdom and the Blackwood Kingdom." I announced.

My voice echoed off the high stone arches.

"We will be choosing the theme today. The competition will have three rounds. The chefs will have like two or three days to prepare and gather their ingredients."

I looked at Sophie. She was standing near the front. Her presence always calmed the storm in my head.

She looked at me. I saw her take her hand to the side. She was waving three fingers for me to see. Her expression was intense. She made her brow in a way that suggested deep thought.

She is saying I should give them three days to prepare. My mind screamed.

I felt a different kind of relief. I wanted to give her exactly what she needed to win. I wanted her to have every advantage. If she asked for three days. I would give her the sun and the moon to match.

"The competition should have started tomorrow." I said to the crowd.

I adjusted the collar of my tunic.

"But that is not enough time for the chefs to prepare. They have three days to gather their supplies. The competition begins on the third day from the fifteenth hour."

I looked at Alpha Stone to ask if that is fine by him. He nodded slowly. He seemed to have a different kind of confidence today. His mocking smirk was gone. It was replaced by a cold, steady gaze.

He looked like a man who had been promised a win. I wondered what had changed his mind overnight.

"Let us begin with the theme for the competition." I said.

Cassian brought six parchment papers. He moved with the quiet efficiency of a shadow.

He gave me three. He handed the other three to Alpha Stone. I looked at the blank paper. The texture was rough under my fingers.

"Write whatever theme comes to your mind." I told Alpha Stone.

"I will write mine. We will combine them to give the theme for each round."

I began to write. I wanted to challenge the northern chefs. I wanted to see if they could handle something they don't know. I wanted to strip away their normal traditional recipes.

I wrote the word Unknown. I raised my paper up. Alpha Stone did the same. Cassian took the papers. He read them both together. Alpha Stone had written the word Dish.

"The first theme is Unknown Dish." Cassian announced.

I looked at Alpha Stone. He nodded. Then made a smile that looks irritating. It was the smile of a man who held a secret card. I felt a flicker of suspicion.

"The first theme is Unknown Dish." I told the hall.

"This means the chefs from both packs will make a dish that is not known in this time. It must be something original. It must be something unique. Do you all understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Everyone said in unison.

The sound was like a drum hitting the floor.

We took the second parchment paper. I thought about the regions. The north has cold winds and salted meats.

Blackwood has rich soil and forest spices. I wanted to see if they could adapt to our flavors. I wrote down the word Region. Alpha Stone wrote the word Swap.

"The second theme is Regional Swap." Cassian announced.

I explained the rules.

"The Blackwood chefs must prepare a dish owned by the Moon Crescent Pack. The Moon Crescent chefs must prepare a dish owned by the Blackwood Pack. This would test your knowledge of the land. It's a test of cultural intelligence. It was a test of survival."

They all nodded in agreement.

We moved to the third parchment paper. This would be the final round. This would decide the fate of the harvest. I wrote the word Soup. Alpha Stone wrote the word Duck.

"The third theme is Duck Soup." Cassian read.

It sounded simple. But in a competition of this scale, simple is dangerous. There is no place to hide a mistake in a clear broth.

Any impurity would float to the surface. After all the themes were chosen, everyone agreed to the terms.

"Alpha Stone and I will be the judges." I stated.

I kept my voice firm.

"We will score each other's chefs. We will be fair but firm. The result will be final."

I dismissed everyone. The crowd began to leave the hall. The elders filed out first. Their robes dragged on the stone.

The northern chefs walked away with Alpha Stone. They were whispering among themselves. They looked satisfied.

Only Sophie remained. She stood in the center of the hall. She looked small. She looked at me. He eyes wide open. Her face was pale.

When everyone was gone, Sophie walked to me. The sound of her boots on the stone was sharp. It echoed in the now empty hall. I stepped down from the dais to meet her.

"Why did you give us three days to prepare?" Sophie asked.

Her voice was high. She sounded stressed.

"I saw you waving three fingers." I said.

My stomach drop. A cold realizationn spread across my chest.

"I thought you meant three days. I wanted to give you the time you requested."

"No." Sophie said.

She shook her head. She held up her hand again.

"I was trying to tell you that days would not be enough. I was telling you no. I was not giving you a signal for three days. I was trying to stop you from setting a date so soon. I need at least a week of preparation for a competition like this."

I looked at her. The weight of the crown become heavy.

My heart hammered. I misinterpreted her action. I had acted on an assumption. I had made the first mistake.

This was a competition that needed a week of preparation. The northern chefs had arrived with their ingredients already in mind. They were prepared for this reckoning. Sophie was not.

I had given her a deadline that was a death sentence. I looked at her hands. They were trembling. I wanted to reach out and steady them, but I couldn't. Not here. Not with the eyes of the palace always watching from the shadows.

The competition had not yet began. I have had my first failure. Does this signify we would fail?

Sophie POV

I left Alaric standing. His face was full of regret.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. My heart hammered. Three days.

He had given me three days for a battle that needed weeks. I did not have time to cry or argue. I had to build a kitchen that could survive this.

I headed for the royal kitchen. The hallways felt longer than usual. The smell of grease met me at the door.

I called all the chefs. I clapped my hands to get their attention. The kitchen staff stopped their work. They looked at me with a mix of fear and curiosity.

"Assemble, everyone." I commanded.

"The competition themes are set. We have three days to prepare for this competition. Listen carefully to my instructions."

I stood by the wooden prep table.

I looked at their faces. Silas looked skeptical. Martha looked terrified. Damien stood in the back. His eyes were cold.

"For the unknown dish, we will make what I call peppered beef." I announced.

"Our special ingredient will be the pepper."

The room went silent. Silas and Martha exchanged looks of horror.

"Pe... pe..." Silas struggled with the word.

"Pepper? That is poison, Chef. It is a weed from the swamps. No one uses it to cook. It burns the tongue. It makes the eyes bleed. It is used for torture, not to make food." Silas stated.

"It is not poison, Silas." I said.

I kept my voice firm.

"I know this ingredient well. In my time, it is a staple. It provides heat. It provides flavor. If you prepare it correctly, it enhances the meat. It will be our secret weapon because the northern chefs will not know how to counter the heat."

"I will not be part of this." Silas said.

He stepped back.

"You will grind it." I said.

I looked him in the eye.

"I am the Chief Royal Chef. I take the risk. Grind the dried peppers into a fine powder. Do not touch your eyes while you do it."

I turned to Martha.

"For the second dish, we must make the Pek Duckling. It is a meal owned by the Moon Crescent Pack. We must beat them at their own game."

Martha gasped. She leaned against the wall.

"Pek Duckling is one of the hardest meals of the northern clans. Even their best chefs fail at it. The skin must be like glass. The meat must be like silk. If the humidity is wrong, the dish is ruined. We do not have the climate for it here." Martha started her concerns.

"We will make our own climate." I said.

"Prep eight ducks. Clean them thoroughly. Pour papaya stock water over them. The enzymes in the papaya will soften the skin. Then, leave them in the sun to dry. We need the skin to become tight and translucent."

"Papaya water?" Martha asked.

"That is not how the northerners do it."

"Exactly." I said.

"My method is faster. Everything will be fine. Trust my process."

I looked at the third theme. Duck soup. This was the most dangerous round.

A slow broth usually takes six to eight hours to draw out the marrow and the essence of the herbs. I did not have that kind of time on the day of the competition.

"For the third dish, the duck soup, I need something special." I said.

"I need a pressure cooker."

"Pre... ture cooker?" Silas asked. He tilted his head.

"No. A pressure cooker." I replied.

I picked up a piece of charcoal. I drew a diagram on a parchment paper. I showed them a heavy pot with a sealed lid and a small valve on top.

"It is a sealed vessel." I explained.

"It traps steam inside. The pressure rises. This heat forces its way into the food. It can cook something that usually takes three hours within one hour. It will help us cook both the duck and the tough wild herbs at the same time. The meat will be soft. The herbs will release their medicine quickly."

"So how do we get the pre... sture cooker?" Martha asked.

I thought about the history books I had read in the library. I remembered a name. A man who experimented with steam and iron.

"We need a blacksmith." I said.

"Specifically, Blacksmith Kaelen."

Silas let out a short, dry laugh.

"Oh. The one who made the iron pipe that went boom in the military quarters? The elders sent him away. They called his work devilry. Nobody knows where he stays now. Some people say he is dead. Some say he lives in the caves of the Silent Peak."

"Dead?" I whispered.

My stomach twisted. If he was dead, my plan for the soup was gone.

"If he is dead, we cannot build the cooker. The pot needs to be constructed by someone with experience." I said

"So what if we do not get the pres... cooker?" Martha asked.

"Then we use Plan B." I said.

I looked at the old iron pots hanging from the ceiling.

"We use the normal palace pots. But it will not give us the depth of flavor we want. The duck will be tough. The judges will notice. I must talk to the Alpha."

"Thank the Moon Goddess we have a plan B." Silas said.

I left the kitchen. I headed for Alaric's chamber. The palace felt like a ticking clock. Every second I spent walking was a second I was not planning.

I reached his doors. The guards let me through.

I saw Alaric sitting by his fireplace. He was not reading. He was not drinking. He was staring into the flames. His mood suggested he was not happy. He looked like a man carrying the weight of a mountain.

"Sophie." He said.

He stood up.

"Will you be able to prepare in three days?"

The urgency in his voice was sharp. He was looking for hope.

"I already discussed the menu with the cooks." I answered.

"I have a plan for the beef and the duck. I only need to get a few ingredients across the palace border. And I need a pressure cooker."

"Pr... e... ture?" Alaric asked.

He looked surprised.

"Pressure cooker." I repeated.

I explained the science of steam. I explained why it was the only way to win the third round. I told him about the time saved. I told him about the texture of the meat.

"Where can we get this device?" He asked.

"I need the blacksmith." I said.

"Kaelen. The one the military quarters dismissed."

Alaric shook his head.

"I do not know anyone by that name. I was young when the military labs had their accidents."

He called for Cassian. Cassian entered the room quickly.

"Cassian, do we have a blacksmith named Kaelen?" Alaric asked.

"There was someone like that, Sire." Cassian confirmed.

"But since he was pursued from the military quarters, he vanished. No one knows his whereabouts. He was accused of wasting royal iron on toys that exploded."

"We must find him." I said.

"Without that pot, the soup will fail."

"We will ask from where he lived before." Alaric said to me.

"People in the lower town usually keep track of their own. We will find him. That is settled."

He stepped closer to me. He looked at my face. He seemed to be studying the dark circles under my eyes.

"So, who did you pick to assist you in the competition?" He asked.

"Cook Silas and Cook Damien." I responded.

"They are the most experienced in the royal kitchen. They are agile. They know the equipment."

"That is good." Alaric said.

He reached out as if to touch my shoulder, then stopped.

"I know you can do this, Sophie. But even if you fail, I won't blame you."

His words were meant to be kind. But to me, they sounded like a funeral.

He was already preparing for my failure.

Sophie POV

I looked at Alaric. He stood tall in the dimly lit chamber.

He was ready to take responsibility if I failed. He was ready to bare the consequences of a loss that could cost him his crown. His eyes held a weight I had not seen before. He was no longer just a king. He was a partner in this gamble.

"We don't have much time, Sophie." Alaric said.

He paced the floor.

"We would begin the journey to get the device you talked about very early tomorrow morning."

"We?" Cassian asked.

He leaned against the door. His brow arched in surprise.

"Yes. I am going with her." Alaric said.

He did not look at Cassian. He kept his focus on me.

"Alpha, you don't have to go." Cassian stated.

He stepped forward.

"The northern envoy are here. They are watching your every move. Don't let them think the Alpha King is not concerned about the affairs of his kingdom. Your absence will signal a lack of control."

"Is going to get a device for the competition not an affair of the kingdom?" Alaric asked.

His voice dropped an octave. It was a warning.

"I can go with her." Cassian said.

"Roland and Thomas would follow for maximum protection. We can handle a blacksmith."

"It is too dangerous." Alaric replied.

He shook his head.

"I want to go on that journey to show the people of Blackwood how much I care for this kingdom. Also, if I am there, the blacksmith won't be able to say no. He would do it well if he knows who is watching."

"Really? Is that it, Alaric?" Cassian teased him.

A small smile played on his lips.

Alaric made a face. It was the face of the Alpha King. It told Cassian that questioning his decision was a mistake.

Cassian let out a dry laugh. He shook his head.

"I know what is going on here, Alaric." Cassian mocked.

"Never mind. I will handle everything like always while you go on a journey that is so important to the kingdom."

"That is what I expected to hear from you." Alaric said.

Cassian had a vicious smile on his face.

He looked at me. He made the I told you look with his eyes. He knew Alaric just wanted to be near me.

He bowed low. He walked out of Alaric's chamber. He looked happy. He looked like he had won a lottery.

I turned back to Alaric. I felt a knot of worry in my stomach.

"Please, when we go there, don't tell the blacksmith you are the Alpha King." I stated.

"But why will I hide a fact that is true?" Alaric asked.

"It is something everyone knows. My face is on the coins."

"I know everyone knows." I responded.

"But just don't mention it. If you act like a king, it will make him nervous. It will make him not want to do it. He was exiled. He hates the crown."

"If he refuses to do it, I will make sure he is tortured until he makes it." Alaric said firmly.

"What if you tortured him and he makes a bad one?" I asked him.

I raised my brow.

"What if it explodes as we cook? I need his skill. Not his fear."

Alaric sighed.

He looked at the floor. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Okay. I promise to be at my best behavior." Alaric said.

He sounded nonchalant.

"I won't mention I am the Alpha King."

"Let me go have some rest so we can leave early tomorrow morning." I said.

Alaric seemed relieved. He knew I was preparing for the competition.

I headed for my quarters. The palace was quiet. I got to my room. I was so tired. My bones ached. I slept off immediately.

I woke up while the sky was still gray. I got dressed in a thick cloak.

I headed for the palace gate. I saw Alaric already waiting. Roland and Thomas were with him.

They wore plain traveling clothes. No royal crests. No gold trim.

"Oh, here you are." Alaric said.

He looked fresh.

"I figured you would come so I didn't send anyone to disturb you."

"Greetings, Your Majesty." I bowed.

"I am here now. Let us begin the journey."

We walked for miles. The sun rose over the trees. It turned the dew into mist.

Thomas and Roland walked behind us. They kept their hands near their weapons.

I told Alaric about the special ingredient. I told him about the pepper. He trusted me. He did not argue that it was poison.

I explained how science can fasten our work. I told him how science meets food to produce something unique. He listened. He did not judge.

We got to a small town called Oakhaven. It was dusty. The houses were made of gray stone.

"This is where I know he lived before." Thomas said.

He looked around. Thomas was a man of secrets. He knew the history of every exile.

"Let me ask that woman."

Thomas pointed to a woman passing by with a basket of grain. He left to go talk to her. He came back a few minutes later.

"The woman said he no longer lives in this town." Thomas reported.

"She said he lives in the forest close to the borderline. He is at the Silent Peak."

"Do you know the place?" Alaric asked Thomas.

"Yes. I know the Silent Peak." Thomas said.

"From the woman's explanation, I have been able to draft a road map."

Thomas showed a paper he was holding. It had rough lines and marks.

"Let us continue the journey then." Alaric said.

He looked at me. He wanted to see if I was tired. I did not show stress. I continued walking. I felt the burn in my legs.

We walked for another mile. The path grew steep. The air grew thin. Suddenly, Alaric stopped.

"I'm tired!" Alaric yelled.

He wiped his brow.

"Let's find a place to rest before we continue."

"We still have a long way to go, Your Majesty." Roland said.

"We don't have much time."

"I know." Alaric said.

He looked at me.

"But Sophie is tired too. Let her rest a little before we continue."

"I'm not tired." I interrupted.

I looked at the mountain ahead.

"We have to find the blacksmith. He needs to start working on the pressure cooker. We don't have much time."

"True." Alaric said.

He tried to catch his breath.

He stood up straight.

"Let's continue. Maybe I will rest when we get there."

"Journey like this is not for you, Your Majesty." Thomas said.

He was teasing Alaric.

"You should have let Cassian and men like us embark on this journey. We are used to the dirt."

"What do you mean?" Alaric asked.

"I'm not tired. I was just trying to consider you guys. Let's continue."

Thomas and Roland exchanged looks.

They let out a laugh of mockery. They knew the Alpha King was struggling.

We walked for what felt like three more miles. The trees grew thick. The birds stopped singing. We finally reached a clearing.

A huge wooden door sat in the side of the mountain. It was reinforced with iron bars.

A sign was nailed to the center. It read:

Blacksmith Kaelen. Do not open this door without permission. If you do, whatever you see, you caused it upon yourself.

"This is the right place." my mind whispered.

"What does he mean by this stupid write up?" Alaric roared.

His face turned red.

"The Alpha King should ask for his permission before entering a house in his kingdom?"

"You promised you won't act like this." I said.

I held Alaric's hand. I squeezed it.

"Please don't be like this. We need him."

"But do you see what is at the door?" Alaric yelled.

"After we have walked for miles, only to come see this rubbish?"

"I know it is frustrating." I urged him.

"But please don't do anything harsh. Don't mention you are the Alpha King."

Before I knew what was happening, Roland stepped forward. He kicked the door with all his strength. The door sprung open. The iron hinges groaned.

"Good." Alaric said.

Roland drew out his sword. Thomas drew out his dagger. They stepped into the dark compound.

"What is that smell?" Thomas asked.

He sniffed the air.

"It looks like fire is burning somewhere." Roland said.

He looked forward. His eyes widened.

He saw a machine. It was a primitive mortar. A heavy iron tube mounted on a wooden frame.

It was pointed directly at the entrance. A slow fuse was sparkling at the base.

"Run! Run!" Roland yelled.

"Bomb! It's a bomb!" Roland roared.

The machine was a steam powered projectile launcher. It hissed with a violent pressure.

We all turned to run away. We scrambled back toward the gate. Before we could leave the entrance, the machine fired. A massive sound filled the tunnel.

BOOM!