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."

Alaric's POV

I staggered out of Elara's court. My boots crushed the scent of her perfume into the stone.

I got to my chamber. I slammed the door. The fits returned. My muscles coiled. My bones felt like they were melting and hardening at the same time.

I gripped the edge of my desk. I watched my claws sink into the wood.

My mind refused to focus on the pain. It focused on Sophie.

I saw her pale face in the kitchen. I saw her slumped shoulders. She was angry. She was exhausted. I had used my mouth to steal a moment from a woman who owed me nothing.

I needed to fix the damage. I needed to please her before Cassian returned with her bag.

I called for the guard outside my door. I told him to find Thomas the Jester. I told him to bring the man to me immediately.

I sat in the silence of my room. I tried to become normal. Then a flash of memory hit me. I saw the garden. I saw the moon. I felt the pressure of Sophie's lips on mine.

The memory was faint. It was like a dream in a fog. But it was there. I felt the heat of her skin. I felt the way she tasted like mint and honey.

The fits began to die down. The fire in my blood cooled. The memory of that kiss acted like a balm on my soul. My heart slowed its frantic pace. I sat still. I composed my features. I was a King again.

A knock sounded on the door. The guard announced Thomas the Jester.

The door opened. Thomas stepped inside. He wore a suit of bells and mismatched fabric. He did not look like a fool. He looked like a man who watched everything. He bowed low.

"Your Majesty calls for a laugh?" Thomas asked. His voice was light.

"I call for a favor." I said.

I stood up and walked toward him. "Last night, I committed an error. I offended the Chief Royal Chef. She is angry. She is hurt. I need to appease her."

Thomas tilted his head. The bells on his cap jingled.

"The ghost chef. I have heard the whispers. They say she makes food that makes men weep. They say she came from the sky."

"She is a woman." I said.

My voice was firm.

"A woman who deserves better than a drunken Alpha." I added.

"I want you to put up a show tonight. Not for me. For her. I want you to perform in the kitchen gardens. Use your best tricks. Use your fire and your stories. Make her smile, Thomas. If she smiles, I will reward you."

Thomas smiled.

"I am a jester, Alpha. My job is to please the King. If the King is pleased by the happiness of the chef, then I will perform. I have wanted to meet this woman in person. I will prepare the show."

"Go then." I said.

"Start your preparations. I want the air to feel light tonight."

Thomas bowed again and left the room. I felt a small weight lift from my chest. I could not face her yet. My shame was too great. But I could send her joy.

I thought about Elara's words. She had used my mother's name as a weapon. She said I no longer cared for revenge. She said my mother's killers walked free. The words burned in my mind.

I sent for Eunuch George. He was my messenger. He was a man of shadows and secrets.

He entered the room with soft steps.

"George." I said. "I have a task for you. It is a matter of blood and memory."

George bowed. "Command me, Alpha."

"Go to the secret archives." I told him.

"Search for my late mother's last draft. She was writing to me before she died. She was writing about the snakes in this court. I need to know what she expected me to do to her killers."

George's eyes widened. "That draft was lost, Your Majesty. Many believe it was burned."

"It was not burned." I said.

I felt the rage return.

"My father hid it. Find it. Bring it to me. I will not have her blood crying from the ground while I sit on a throne of lies."

George nodded. He turned and disappeared into the hallway.

I looked at the window. The sun was setting. The sky looked like a bruise.

I felt a sudden lack of appetite. The thought of meat and wine made my stomach turn.

I felt a different kind of hunger. A hunger for the woman I had insulted.

I called for the Chief Guard.

"Go to the royal kitchen." I commanded. "Tell them I am not interested in having my evening meal. I will not eat tonight."

The guard looked surprised. "But Alpha, the Chef has prepared..."

"I said I will not eat." I cut him short.

"Tell her the King is not hungry. Tell her I will fast until the morning."

I watched the guard leave.

I turned back to the window.

I knew Sophie would hear the message. She would think I was still the tyrant. She would think I was being difficult.

But the truth was simpler. I could not stomach a single bite of food prepared by her hands while she looked at me with venom.

I would go hungry. I would feel the void in my stomach just as I felt the void in my heart. If she was angry, the King would starve.

Sophie's POV

The heavy iron doors of the kitchen groaned. I didn't look up. I continue scrubbing the counter. I tightened my grip on the scrub rag.

My heart beat fast.

The Chief Guard entered.

I knew that heavy, rhythmic clanking. It was the sound of the Chief Guard.

I asked myself what new havoc was about to befall me.

My mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario.

This was it. I was about to be executed. I walked out on Alaric. You do not tell an Alpha King he is a harasser and then go back to potatoes. I expected a blade or shackles.

The guard spoke. His voice cut through the room.

"A message from the Alpha." He announced.

He looked at me. An expression that was hard to read. A mix of confusion and something that looked like pity.

"The King is not interested in having his evening meal. He will not eat tonight. He intends to fast until morning." He added.

I stopped scrubbing. The silence was thick.

After the guard left, the kitchen erupted.

"Sophie, what happened?" Elspeth rushed to my side. Her face looked pale.

"Is he having the fits again? Is that why he won't eat?"

"He is just being the tyrant he is known to be." I muttered.

I tossed the rag into a bucket.

"Hush!" Silas hissed. He looked at the door in terror.

"Do not talk like that. If the wrong ears hear you, not even your ghost-luck will save you."

In my heart, I felt relief. I almost laughed. If he did not want to eat, I did not have to face him.

I would not have to look at those golden eyes. I would not have to wonder if he remembered the kiss.

I could sleep early. I can finally have a moment without a wolf in a crown.

"Clean everything." I commanded the staff.

My voice lighter than it had been all day.

"Scrub the hearth. Arrange the spices. Then everyone goes to bed early. We have a long morning ahead."

I saw them off one by one.

Then I returned to my small quarters. My eyes burned with exhaustion. I didn't even take off my outer tunic. I collapsed onto the straw pallet. I fell into a deep sleep.

I do not know how much time passed. One moment I was dreaming of home. The next, a large hand clamped over my mouth.

I bolted upright. My heart leaped into my throat. I tried to scream. The sound was muffled against a palm. A shadow loomed over me.

"Quiet ghost chef." A voice whispered.

It was low and rough.

"If you scream, the guards will come. I want to complete my task."

I struggled. I kicked my legs. The man was strong. He dragged me toward the door.

"Who are you?" I asked.

Just as he loosened his grip slightly.

My heart raced.

"You will find out soon." He replied.

His eyes glinting in the dark.

"I need to take you out of here. I know you want to return home. Follow me."

My blood went cold.

"Home? Did you find the Ledger of Satiety that brought me here?"

"Someone is waiting for you." He said.

He ignored the question.

"They would love to meet the famous ghost in the Royal Kitchen. Let's go."

I walked with him. My eyes were heavy with sleep. My mind was clouded. We moved through the silent corridors. We reached the kitchens. The air was cold. The fires were out.

"No one is here." I said.

I turned to face the man.

"Are you trying to kidnap me? Is this Elara's doing?"

A sharp whistle pierced the air.

Four men jumped out. There were behind the stone pillars. My eyes widened. They were dressed in mismatched fabrics. Reds. Purples. Yellows. They wore caps with bells. Clowns.

They did not move like circus performers. They moved with predatory grace. They loped across the floor like wolves. They began to dance. The bells on their hats sounded like a warning.

I tried to run. They were too fast. They surrounded me. Their faces was painted. It grinned in the light.

They threw fireworks in the air.

Kaboom!

Tiny sparks of gold exploded.

It was beautiful. It looked like miniature stars falling. But I was too terrified to appreciate the aesthetics.

"What do you want?" I shouted.

They did not answer. Two more joined the circle. Now there were six. They performed tumbles and leaps. They were a blur of color. One lunged toward me. He landed inches from my feet.

The one in front of me was different. He was taller. He moved with powerful authority. He did not jump like the others. He watched me. He wore a velvet mask.

The other five stopped. They dropped to one knee.

The tall jester in front of me reached up. His fingers were large. He touched the edge of his hood. He began to push it back. He was about to reveal his face.

My heart raced.

I don't know what to expect.

I asked myself. Is this how they execute people privately?

They put up a show so you can enjoy your last day on earth.