TO SATE AN ALPHA'S FURY

Elara's POV

The stone of the corridor felt like ice against my spine. I pressed my body into the uneven surface of the wall. I held my breath. Every second felt like an hour.

Just a few feet away. The heavy boots of the King clicked against the floor. I watched through a narrow gap in the masonry.

My eyes were fixed on the movement of hands. Cassian stood with Alaric. I saw Cassian reach into his tunic. He pulled out a small note.

The parchment was yellowed. The wax seal was a deep royal purple. I heard the name fall from Alaric's lips.

Queen Mother Isolde.

I watched Alaric's face. It shifted into a mask of suspicion. He did not look in my direction. He does not look at me at all anymore.

To him I am a threat. I am a nuisance to be ignored. I waited until their footsteps faded toward the keep.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I could not ask the King what the message said. He would only sneer.

He would see my curiosity as a weapon.

I turned and rushed toward the north wing. I needed the Queen Mother's quarters.

Information is the only currency that matters in this palace. Without it, you are a servant. With it, you are a master.

I navigated the dim hallways. The air here was different. It was thick with the scent of old lavender and stagnant power.

I reached her double doors. The wood was carved with the symbols of the old moon. I smoothed my skirts. I forced my breathing to slow.

I entered without being summoned. Isolde sat in her high-backed chair near the window. The moonlight caught the silver in her hair.

She looked at me with judgmental eyes. She did not offer me a seat. She did not offer me wine.

"You have never visited me before Elara." Isolde said.

Her voice was like dry parchment rubbing together.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We are not quarreling Your Majesty." I replied.

I forced a smile. I made my voice soft and melodic.

"We have always been on good terms. I have simply been busy with the Alpha King. His needs are many."

Isolde let out a short sarcastic laugh. She tapped her ring against the arm of her chair.

"The same Alpha King who now sees you as a threat?" She asked.

I did not let the insult show in my eyes. I did not get angry. Anger is a weakness that reveals your cards.

I needed her to speak. She was a piece in the game Magnus and I were playing. She would play a great role.

"It is the ghost chef." I said.

I sighed deeply.

I looked at the floor as if I were a grieving lover.

"She is taking the King's eyes away from me. She uses her strange spices to cloud his mind. With time, he will return to the only woman who can comfort him. He will remember who stood by him when he had nothing."

Isolde leaned back. She looked satisfied by my supposed misery. She enjoyed seeing the favorite fallen from grace.

"We have all heard of the ghost chef." She said.

"The kitchen smells like a foreign land. Even Prince Daemon seeks to dine with the Alpha King tomorrow. He wants to taste her meal for himself. He wants to know if the rumors of her skill are genuine."

I acted surprised. I widened my eyes. I let my mouth hang open slightly.

"Really?" I asked.

In my heart, I smiled. I had the information.

The young prince wanted to dine with the King. That was the message. She had given me exactly what I needed without knowing it. The trap was forming in my mind.

"Why would you let the Young Prince eat the food of a ghost?" I asked.

I made my voice sound worried. I leaned forward as if to protect the boy.

"She is an outsider. We do not know her origins."

"We have all eaten her food." Isolde replied.

She shrugged her thin shoulders.

"Nothing happened to us. The Alpha is still standing. I do not think it is a bad idea. Daemon is curious."

"I must go." I said.

I stood up quickly.

The silk of my gown hissed against the rug.

"It is getting late. I only came to greet you. I wanted to let you know we are at peace. I want no enemies in this house."

"Why leave so soon?" She asked.

She looked suspicious of my haste.

"It is late." I said.

"And I have much to prepare for tomorrow."

I fled from her quarters. I did not look back. I rushed to my chamber.

My mind was a storm of calculations. I grabbed my heavy wool coat from the chest. I pulled the hood over my head. I needed to be a shadow.

I had a great idea to destroy the ghost chef once and for all. This was the opening I needed.

I headed for the Secretariat of Grand Prince Magnus. I moved through the shadows of the servant halls. I avoided the main torches.

I reached his heavy oak door. I entered without knocking. The room was hot and smelled of fermented grain.

Magnus was sitting close to the fire. He was drinking from a silver goblet. He looked like a man drowning in a stupor. His eyes were bloodshot. His tunic was stained.

Anyone who saw him would think he's useless and foolish. They would see a drunkard. They would not know he is the mastermind behind the chaos.

He laughed when he saw me. It was a drunken, grating sound that filled the room.

"I told you to stop visiting me." Magnus said.

He slurred his words.

"Someone will see you. Then our little play ends."

"What I have to discuss cannot wait." I said.

I pulled my hood back. My face was flushed with the cold.

"What is so important?" He asked. He took another long swallow of wine.

"I have a way to destroy the ghost chef once and for all." I told him.

I stood over him. I blocked the light of the fire.

Magnus waved a hand dismissively. He stared into the flames.

"I am already getting my trained rogues ready for that. They will snatch her from the market or the path. It is simple."

"No." I said.

I shook my head.

"This is the best way. No one can trace it back to us. No blades. No kidnappings."

He paused. He looked at me over the rim of his cup. The drunken fog in his eyes cleared for a moment. He saw the fire in mine.

"Which way can we use that would not be traced?" He asked.

"Young Prince Daemon wants to dine with the King tomorrow." I explained.

I watched his face for a reaction.

"We will use the food she prepares to trap her in Queen Mother Isolde's wrath. We will make the boy the weapon."

Magnus laughed again.

"How?" He asked.

"She is a perfectionist. She does not leave the kitchen until the food is served. We cannot poison the food. Poison is clumsy. It leaves a trace in the blood. The royal healer is not a fool."

"We are not tempering with the food." I whispered.

I leaned closer to him. I could smell the stale ale on his breath.

"The ghost chef always uses ginger when she prepares a meal. It is her signature. She thinks it cleanses the palate. She uses it in almost every dish she serves to Alaric."

I looked at the fire. My plan was perfect. It was a work of art.

"There is something we can add to the young prince's medications." I said.

Magnus was the one supplying the boy's medicine. He controlled the apothecary.

"It is something that is poison but not poison. It is simply rat poop. On its own, it does nothing. But when mixed with ginger, it causes the throat to close. It causes the heart to erratic. It looks like a sudden, violent illness."

Magnus's eyes widened.

He set his goblet down on the small table. He sat up straight.

"You are truly a viper." He said.

He let out a loud, dark laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"We can sicken the prince without being caught. It is not an actual poison. It is a biological reaction. The healer will find nothing but the ingredients of a meal. The ghost chef will be the one who cooked it. The Queen Mother will demand her head for harming the boy."

I smiled. The plan was set. The boy would eat. The girl would fall. I would remain the only one left to comfort the King.