Sophie's POV

I slammed the heavy stone pestle into the mortar.

Each crack echoing against the wall felt good. It felt like a small, satisfying victory. I repeated the motion.

Crush. Grind. Destroy.

I had not slept for a single second. My mind held the scent of cedar and wine. I felt the touch of Alaric on my back. That kiss should not exist.

My hands shook.

I reached for the ginger root. I sliced it with jagged, violent movements.

I was a modern woman. I survived a temporal rift. A hunting net. A fall off a cliff. Even the trial of skill.

I do not accept being a drunken convenience for a tyrant.

"Sophie? You are hurting the ginger."

I looked up.

Martha watched me from the prep table. Her eyes showed concern. She had never seen me like this. In the short time I had been here, I had been terrified, confused, or determined.

But today, I was radiating pure, unadulterated heat.

"I am fine Martha." I said. My voice was tight.

I kept my eyes on the cutting board.

"You are not fine." Martha countered.

She moved closer. Her voice dropped.

"I have never seen you this angry. Your face looks pale. Did something happen in the garden? Did the Alpha... did he threaten you?"

I could not explain a five hundred year mistake.

"The King was drunk." I said.

I focused on the pot of boiling water.

"He was loud. He was difficult. I am simply tired."

I turned back to the stove. I was making a recovery soup. I used bone broth, fresh ginger, honey, and lemon balm. It was a cure for hangover.

It would settle his stomach. It will clear his blood. I dished the liquid into a wooden bowl. I set it on a tray.

"Elspeth." I called out.

The eldest chef hurried over. Her gray hair was tucked neatly under her cap.

I handed her the tray.

"Take this to the King's chambers. Tell him it is for his head. Ensure he drinks it all."

"You are not coming?" Elspeth asked surprised.

"I have stock to skim." I replied.

I didn't look at her.

I watched them leave.

I tried to focus on the steam rising from the pots. I tried to convince myself that I was safe in the kitchen.

Ten minutes later. The peace was shattered.

The kitchen doors flew open. Elspeth ran back inside. Her face pale. Her chest heaving. She was panting hard. She couldn't speak.

Behind her, the other junior cooks looked like they had seen a massacre.

"He destroyed a washbasin. He threw the first tray. He is having fits!" Elspeth screamed.

I frowned.

"Fits? What does that mean? Is he having a seizure?"

"No!" Elspeth grabbed my arm.

"The fits of rage! When the Alpha is angry, he destroys everything in his path. He is yelling."

She lowered her voice. Her eyes darting around.

"Usually, only Lady Elara can comfort him during the fits. She goes in and calms the wolf. But today... he is different."

"What did he say?" I asked.

My heart began to thud.

"He demanded you." Elspeth whispered.

"He threatened to destroy the kitchen if you did not appear."

I stood still. I searched my memory of the history books. My father taught me every legend about Alaric the Tyrant. But he never mentioned these "fits."

It sounded less like a king. It sounded like a man who can't handle his own head.

I grabbed a fresh tray. I dished out a second bowl of the recovery soup. My anger was still there. I walked out of the kitchen. My clogs clicked against the stone floor.

I walked to the royal chambers. Guards stood at the door. They looked afraid. They opened the oak door for me.

I stepped inside. The room was a mess. A chair sat upside down. Broken wood lay on the rug. Alaric stood by the window. His chest was rising and falling rapidly.

As the door clicked shut. I saw him freeze. He didn't turn immediately. He smoothed his tunic. He fixed his hair. He adjusted his posture. He was composing himself. For me.

I set the tray on the table. I kept my eyes fixed on the soup. I did not look at him. I felt his gaze.

It was heavy. It was hungry. Usually, I looked at him with curiosity or defiance.He wanted me to look at him. He now craved that look. My silence bothered him.

"What is this?" he asked.

His voice was a raspy rumble. It was still rough from the wine.

"Ginger and honey broth." I said. My voice was flat. Professional.

"It will settle your stomach. The lemon balm will reduce the pressure in your head. Drink it while it is hot."

I moved to step back. I still did not look at him.

"Sophie," he said. He sounded confused. "Look at me."

"I am a chef, Your Majesty. I am looking at the meal."

"Are you well?" he asked. He stepped closer. I could felt heat radiating from his body.

I couldn't help it. My head snapped up. I glared at him.

"Why would you ask if I am okay? After what happened yesterday?"

Alaric blinked. His storm-gray eyes were genuinely blank.

"Yesterday? You brought me soup in the garden. I drank. I remember the moon was bright. Why does that make you look at me with such venom?"

I felt a surge of pure, hot bile in my throat. "So you don't remember? You truly have no memory of your actions?"

"I woke with a headache" he said softly.

"Did you wake on the wrong side of your bed? Or do you want to me to get you a new bed?"

I leaned across the table. My face was inches from his.

I was so angry I forgot he could have me executed.

"You don't remember... muah?" I twisted my mouth into a ridiculous kissing shape.

I held it for a second. My face burning with the memory of his lips on mine.

Alaric stared at my mouth. He looked baffled.

"Muah? What is a muah? Why are you making that sound? Is that how you say you are sick where you come from?"

I straightened up. I wanted to hit him.

"I knew it. I knew he would do this. He harass me. And now he is pretending it never happened. All because he is a King and I am a prisoner." My mind whispered.

Before I could say a word. A commotion broke out in the hall. Shouting echoed through the door.

"I must see him! Move aside!"

It was Elara. I recognized her melodic voice. She was wrestling with the guards. She sounded desperate. She truly believed she was the only cure for his "fits."

Alaric's head snapped toward the door. The vulnerability I had seen a moment ago vanished. His golden eyes flared.

"What is that noise?" He yelled.

The door creaked open an inch.

A guard's face appeared.

"Alpha! Lady Elara insists on entering. She says she is here to provide your comfort."

Alaric turned back to me. His intensity was terrifying. He looked at me. Like I was the only thing in the room that mattered. Like he wanted to devour me.

"I said I would see no one." Alaric's voice cut through the room. "That includes Lady Elara. Tell her to return to her chambers immediately."

I saw Elara's face through the gap in the door. She was frozen. She saw me standing there. She saw Alaric looking at me with a heat she clearly didn't possess. Her face contorted with pure jealousy.

She turned and stomped away.

The room went silent. Alaric turned back to me. He reached out a hand to touch my arm.

I stepped back. I looked him dead in the eye.

"You have no right." I said. My voice was low but steady.

"You have no right to harass me. You have no right to kiss me like I belong to you. I am your chef Alaric. Not your toy."

I turned on my heel and walked out.

I didn't wait for his permission. I didn't look back.

I left the King of Blackwood standing alone in his wreckage.

Alaric's POV

The door closed behind Sophie. The sound echoed in my chamber. My skin felt hot. I stood in the silence.

I am the Alpha of Blackwood. I am the King of the North. Men tremble when I speak. My council bows. My enemies flee. Yet a girl in strange clothes had accused me of harassment.

Muah.

I touched my lips. I looked at the soup. My head was thumping from the wine. My mind was spinning faster.

What had I done? I tried to remember the night. I remembered the garden. I remembered the scent of jasmine. I remembered her holding my arm. The rest was a dark void.

"Cassian!" I roared.

The side door opened immediately.

My Beta and oldest friend stepped in. He did not look at the broken furniture. He looked at me with a smirk. It made me want to shift and tear his throat out.

"You called, Your Majesty?" Cassian asked. He crossed his arms. "Or should I say, Your Romance?"

"Silence." I barked.

I paced the length of the rug. "The Chief Royal Chef. She claims I... I laid hands on her last night. She used a strange word. She made a sound with her mouth."

I stopped and looked at him. I needed him to tell me she was lying. I needed him to say she was crazy.

Cassian's smirk widened.

"She is not lying, Alaric. You did more than putting your hands on her. You clung to her like a pup to a mother. You put your lips on hers and refused to let go. I watched from the shadows. I made sure you did not fall into the stream. Until I realized I was watching a theater of the heart."

I felt the blood drain from my face. I touched my mouth again. My fingers shook. I had kissed the spirit sent by the Goddess.

"I do not remember. Why do I not remember?" I asked calmly.

"Because you drank enough wine to kill a lesser wolf." Cassian said.

"She is furious. She believes you took advantage of your crown."

"I must satisfy her anger." I muttered.

I looked at the scattered pieces of the tray.

"I want you to send for the royal jeweler. I will give her silks from the southern trade routes. I will give her gold pins for her hair."

Cassian let out a sharp laugh.

"You are so funny Alaric. You think every woman is like Elara? Elara loves gold because it buys her power. The ghost chef does not care for your shiny rocks. She looks at your crown like it is a kitchen pot."

"Then what does she want?" I demanded. "I am a King. I give gifts. That is how peace is made..."

"She speaks of her bag." Cassian interrupted.

His face turning serious.

"And that book. The ledger she was holding when you found her in the net. She says her life is inside that bag. If you want her to forgive you. Help her find her treasure. Give her back her past."

I felt a cold shiver in my chest.

If I found that book. It would take her back. She would disappear into the air.

"Take two guards." I commanded.

"Go to the cliff. Search the riverbanks. Search every thicket. Find the bag. Find the book. Bring them to me."

Cassian bowed. He turned and left.

In my heart, a dark thought took root. I prayed the book remained lost. I am the Tyrant King. Yet I was becoming a prisoner to a strange girl. I did not want her to have a way home.

I left the wreckage of my room. I needed quiet.

I walked to my private study. A small chamber hidden behind the library. This was where I spent my hours alone. This was where I wrote the laws of the pack.

I sat at the heavy oak desk. I pulled out a fresh journal. The leather was new. The pages were white and empty.

I picked up a charcoal stick. I did not write a law. I did not plan a war. Instead, I began to draw.

I drew the bowl of chilled melon soup. I drew the nut tart. I drew the recovery broth she had just brought me. I wrote down her explanations in the margins.

Lemon balm for the head. Ginger for the gut.

I found myself smiling as I sketched the steam rising from a wooden bowl.

I stopped. I dropped the charcoal.

Why am I thinking about the ghost? I asked myself.

My kingdom was facing a winter of hunger. The southern packs were restless. I was a King. Yet I was sitting in a dark room drawing soup. I was obsessed. I was distracted.

A sharp knock at the door broke my thoughts. A guard entered. He bowed his head low.

"Alpha. The Elders have gathered in the Great Hall. They demand an audience. They say the matter is urgent."

"Leave." I said.

"I will be there."

I looked at the new journal. I needed a name for it. I couldn't think of one. My mind was too full of her face.

I closed the book and tucked it into a hidden drawer.

I walked to the Great Hall. The air was thick. I could smell the scent of old men and damp wool.

The Elders sat in a semi-circle. Their white beards resting on their chests.

They were whispering. The moment my boots clicked on the stone. The room went silent.

I climbed the dais. I sat on the throne of bone. I did not speak. I let the silence stretch until they shifted in their seats.

"Speak." I commanded.

Elder Hrothgar stood up. He leaned on a gnarled staff.

"Your Majesty. The pack of Blackwood Kingdom is whispering. They say their Alpha is no longer focused on the borders. They say he chases a ghost. To involve yourself with a spirit is a taboo, Alpha. It invites doom to our crops and our blood."

He stepped forward. His eyes milky with age.

"The law is clear. The Alpha must be involved with a woman of his class. Lady Elara is of noble blood. She is fit for your bed. This... nobody... this cook uses tricks. She uses strange potions to confuse your mind. She must be removed."

Rage flared in my gut. I felt my claws grow. But beneath the rage, there was a strange spark of joy. They were afraid of her. They saw her power.

"Remove her?" I asked.

My voice was dangerously low.

"When did the pack begin to question the authority of the Alpha King? When did the Elders decide who enters my kitchen or my bed?"

"We speak for the safety of the pack..." Elder Hrothgar said

"You speak for your own fear!" I interrupted him.

I stood up. My presence filling the hall.

"You come here to tell me I am confused? I am the Alpha! I see everything. I see who put these words in your mouths."

I knew this was Elara's work. She had whispered in their ears. She had used the Elders to do her dirty work. She knew I wouldn't listen to her.

"This meeting is dismissed." I snapped.

I walked down the steps of the dais.

"Return to your homes. Come back when you have something better to say. Not the gossip of a jealous woman. If I hear another word of this. I will find the source and I will silence it permanently."

Alaric's POV

I walked the Elders out of the hall. I watched them scramble away like frightened rabbits.

The stone floor of the Great Hall vibrated beneath my boots. Every step I took felt like a hammer strike.

The Elders had dared to speak to me of taboos. They had dared to call Sophie a nobody.

I felt the wolf beneath my skin pacing. His claws scratching at my ribs. My head was pounding from the fresh sting of their insults.

I needed to move. I needed to hunt. I needed to silence the voices that told me how to rule.

I marched down the corridor. My guards followed in silence. Their armor usually clanked in a rhythm that soothed me. Today, it was just more noise.

I didn't think about where I was going. I just let my feet find the path.

"Your Majesty?"

The lead guard spoke.

I stopped. I realized the air had changed. It no longer smelled of old parchment and damp wool. It smelled of woodsmoke and rosemary. Something sweet, like rising dough.

"Your Majesty." The guard muttered again. His voice hesitant.

"You are on your way to the royal kitchen. The Alpha King is not supposed to be seen anywhere near the servants' quarters or the kitchen. It is not your place."

I froze. I stood ten yards from the kitchen archway. He was right. A King belonged in the war room. I belonged on the throne. I did not belong in the grease of the kitchen.

My heart sank. A cold realization washed over me. My body sought her without a thought. I walked toward the only source of peace I had felt in days.

What has she done to my senses? I asked myself.

I was the Alpha. My subconscious should be focused on the borders of the kingdom. It should be focused on the grain stores. On the training of new recruits.

Instead, it was tuned to the frequency of a girl who had fallen from the sky. I stayed in a state of constant focus on her. Even when I was not trying. She had infected my mind.

I stepped into the shadow of a pillar. I looked over the low kitchen wall.

There she was. Sophie.

She was standing at the central table. She was focused on a pile of greens. Her hands moved with a precision that was almost hypnotic. But she did not look well.

Even from this distance, I could see her shoulders slumped. Her face looked pale. The vibrant energy she usually carried had been replaced. She now wore a somber mask.

I did not cause this.

The wine did this. My lack of control did this. I had taken a liberty I did not remember. Now I was watching the consequence.

I watched her wipe her forehead. She looked exhausted.

Rage hit me. It was not directed at Sophie. I felt rage for the person who set traps for her. I knew who had whispered to the Elders. I knew who tried to cripple her. I knew who was poisoning the atmosphere of my home.

I turned away from the kitchen. I walked toward the royal wing. The air smelled of heavy perfume and expensive oils.

"To Lady Elara's chambers." I growled at the guards.

We moved fast. We passed servants who scurried out of the way. We passed tapestries that had hung for a hundred years.

I reached her doors. I did not wait for the guards to announce my arrival. I kicked the door open. It hit the wall with a loud crack.

Elara stood by her vanity mirror. She held a gold brush. She jumped, her eyes wide. When she saw me, she quickly smoothed her features into a mask of delight.

She dropped the brush and ran toward me. Her silk skirts swishing on the floor.

"Alaric!" she cried.

Her voice was musical. The voice that brought me comfort after a long day of ruling. Now sounded like noise to my ears.

"Finally. The Alpha King is here to see the only woman who can comfort him. I heard about the meeting with the Elders. I knew you would need me."

She reached out to touch my chest. Her fingers fluttering toward my tunic.

"Don't you dare touch me." I snapped.

I stepped back. I pinned her with my stare.

Her hands froze in mid-air.

"And don't think too highly of yourself." I continued.

"I am not here to see you for comfort. I am here to call you out on your plots. I am here to expose your agenda against Sophie."

Elara's face went white. She pulled her hands back and clasped them in front of her.

"Alaric, I don't know what you are talking about. You are upset. The wine from last night must have confused your mind."

"I am not confused." I roared.

I paced the room. I looked at the luxury I had provided her. The silk pillows. The gold-leaf mirrors.

"I know you were behind the trials of skill. I know you tried to have her crippled. And the meeting today? The Elders coming to me with talk of taboo? You plotted that too. You whispered in their ears. You used their fear of the unknown to strike at a woman who has done nothing but serve this kingdom."

Elara snapped.

Her submissive act vanished.

She stood tall. Her eyes flashing with a cold, green fire.

"I know nothing about all this." She tried to deny.

"You want to stand here and deny it to my face?" I responded immediately.

"Fine! I will tell you the truth. You don't look at me anymore! Ever since that ghost fell into the forest. You have ignored me. You no longer focus on the affairs of the Blackwood Kingdom. You are obsessed with a spirit that belongs in the ground."

I smirked. It was a cold, joyless expression.

"So all of this is because of your jealousy. You are willing to risk the stability of the palace because you feel ignored?"

A single tear dropped from Elara's cheek.

She looked at me with an expression of deep hurt. I saw the calculation behind it.

"You now call her by her name. You lay accusations against me that are not true. I have never done anything to hurt you Alaric. I have only ever comforted you. I have stood by your side through the darkest nights of your reign. And this is how you pay me back? By defending a nobody over me?"

I let out a very silent, bitter laugh.

"Stop with your crocodile tears Elara. We both know the truth. You are behind every shadow in this palace. You are behind the rumors. You are behind the fear."

Elara's face contorted. She stopped crying.

"Your elders telling you the truth is now my plot? You are no longer focused on important and pressing issues Alaric! You are chasing a ghost while the kingdom waits for leadership!"

"And what are these pressing issues?" I cut her short.

I stepped into her personal space. My height towering over her.

"Tell me, Elara. What is more important than the justice of my court?"

"Finding those who were involved in your mother's death!" she yelled.

The name hit me like a physical blow. The air left my lungs. The grief I had been trying to drown in wine and work came rushing back. It was sharp and jagged.

"Don't you dare bring my mother into this." I whispered. My voice was shaking.

"I will bring her into it!" Elara continued.

Her voice rising in a frantic pitch.

"You no longer care about getting revenge for her! You spent years hunting for the truth. Now you have stopped. You are now focused on a love you know can never work. You are focused on a spirit while your mother's killers walk free!"

The pain in my head exploded.

It felt like a white-hot needle was driven into my skull. The "fits" were returning.

I felt my bones begin to shift. My jaw ached as my teeth sharpened. I was unstable. I was moving from human to wolf and back again in a blurred, agonizing cycle.

The voice that once brought me comfort was now the very thing giving me these fits. Every word she spoke was like a lash across my back.

"Stop!" I screamed.

I staggered. I grabbed the edge of her vanity table. My claws leaving deep gouges in the expensive wood.

I looked at Elara. She didn't look afraid. She looked triumphant. She saw the pain she was causing.

"You care more for the ghost than your own mother." She whispered.

I forced myself to stand straight. I pushed the wolf back down with every ounce of my will. I looked her in the eyes. My vision blurring.

"I know you are behind it all." I said.

"I know you are the source of the rot in this palace."

Elara stepped back. She crossed her arms. She had a cruel smile.

"Until you have solid evidence to prove I am behind it all, your words hold no weight Alaric. I am the daughter of a noble house. She is a nameless girl. Who will the pack believe?"

I leaned forward. My face inches from hers. The scent of her perfume made me want to gag.

"I will get evidence." I told her.

I made it a vow.

"I will find every string you have pulled. I will find every person you have bribed. And when I do Elara, you will be brought to book. You will answer for every lie you have told."