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TO SATE AN ALPHA'S FURY Novel Cover

TO SATE AN ALPHA'S FURY

A modern chef trapped in an ancient blood feud, must choose between the timeline she knows and the Alpha she loves before history repeats itself. Can a woman from the future rewrite a destiny written in blood, or is she just the final meal for an Alpha king marked for the grave?
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Chapter 24

Alaric's POV

The morning sun broke through the curtains of my chamber. It casted golden streaks across the floor.

I woke up with a sensation. I had not it felt in years. I was happy. My mind immediately went back to the market square.

I could still feel the weight of Sophie in my arms. I remembered the way her pulse jumped when I caught her. I remembered the scent of her hair. It was like wild herbs and rain.

I lay there for a moment. I stared at the ceiling. I let the memory settle. I am a King who has spent his life expecting blades. To hold something so vital felt like a shift in the foundations of my world.

A knock disturbed my thoughts. It was Roland. I recognized the disciplined strike of the Chief Guard.

"Your Majesty." Roland's voice came through the thick wood.

"The Young Prince is ready to see you. He is waiting in the leisure garden."

I sat up. I cleared the sleep from my throat.

"Give the Alpha a second to prepare." I commanded.

I stood up. I grabbed my tunic. It was a deep crimson wool. I pulled it over my shoulders.

I called for the maids. They entered with silent. Their movements practiced. They arranged my attire. They fastened the buckles of my belt. They smoothed the fabric of my cloak.

I looked at myself in the bronze mirror. I looked like a King. But inside I felt like a man who was finally beginning to breathe.

I left my chamber. My boots echoed in the corridors. I walked toward the leisure garden. It was a private expanse of greenery hidden within the palace walls.

I found Young Prince Daemon there. He was sitting on the stone bench. He was kicking his small legs. His face lit up when he saw me.

He is a boy full of energy. He is the opposite of the shadows that define this court.

"Brother." Daemon said.

He stood up. He bowed with a clumsiness that was almost charming.

"We do not dine together more often. I see you in the hall. But you are always surrounded by men with sour faces."

I sat across from him. I felt a rare pang of guilt.

"We eat the same food Daemon. The kitchens serve the same bounty to us all."

"That is not true." The boy argued.

He crossed his arms.

"I am given specific food because they say I am young. It is bland. It is boring. And eating together is different from eating separately. Food tastes better when you have someone to talk to."

I laughed. It was a deep sound. I realized he was right. I had spent my life eating in silence. Or staring at my enemies.

"I promise you." I said.

I reached out. I ruffled his hair.

"We will eat together more often now. I will make sure of it."

I looked toward the palace entrance. I saw Sophie approaching. I had summoned her earlier.

She walked with a grace that was becoming familiar. She looked at the Young Prince with curiosity.

"Sophie." I said.

I gestured for her to come closer.

"This is Young Prince Daemon. I want you to prepare something special for us today. I loved the meal you made for Grand Prince Magnus. It was exceptional. But I want you to make it differently this time. Show the Prince your skill. Add a side dish."

Sophie nodded.

Her eyes were bright.

"I understand Your Majesty. I will prepare something that fits a Prince's palate."

She turned. She headed for the kitchen. Her pace was brisk. She always looked like she was on a mission when food was involved.

Daemon watched her go.

"So that is the ghost chef? The one the servants whisper about? They say she fell from the moon."

"She is not a ghost." I told him.

I leaned back against the stone.

"She is just a woman from a far away land. Her world is different from ours."

"She looks like a person." Daemon noted.

"I would love to eat what you eat every day. I am tired of mashed grains and boiled mutton."

"You will see." I said.

"She does not cook like the others."

We sat in the garden for an hour. We talked about horses. We talked about the wooden sword he practiced with.

He was a little boy. He just wanted to talk to his brother. He didn't care about taxes. He didn't care about border disputes. He just wanted to know if I could teach him how to ride a horse.

Soon the scent reached us. It was savory. It was complex. Sophie appeared at the end of the walkway.

She was leading a small procession. She held a large silver tray. Two other chefs followed behind her. They each carried trays covered in linen. It looked like a buffet fit for a coronation.

They reached the table. They bowed together in unison.

"Your Majesty the food is ready." They said.

I gestured for them to set the table. They moved quickly. They laid out the plates and the silverware.

I looked at the trays. Then I looked at the royal taster who was standing nearby. He was ready to take the first bite.

"Leave us." I commanded.

I looked at the taster.

"All of you. I want to eat with my brother in private."

The servants bowed. They all retreated.

Only Sophie remained standing by the table. I looked at the main dish. It was beautiful.

"Tell me what you have prepared." I said.

"It is a chicken dish." Sophie explained.

She pointed to the golden-brown meat.

"It is different from the one I served the Grand Prince. I have used ginger. I used other medicinal herbs inside the bird. I cooked it slowly. Until the meat was soft. Then I used pumpkin water to coat the skin. I poured hot oil over it. To create a crunch on the outside."

I looked at Daemon. He was already salivating. He was staring at the chicken like it was made of gold.

"What about the sauce?" I asked.

"The root I used last time." She said.

"I brought it fresh today. You can chew the root for its health benefits while using the sweet sauce for the poultry."

I looked at Daemon.

"Do you understand what she said?"

"No." He answered honestly.

"But it smells better than anything I have ever seen."

"Cut the chicken." I told him.

"It is soft. Dip it in the sweet sauce."

Sophie stepped forward.

"Wait. Let me taste it first."

She took a small bite of the chicken. She dipped it in the sauce and ate it. She waited a few seconds.

She was ensuring the food was perfect.

After she nodded. Daemon did not hesitate. He cut a large piece. He dipped it deep into the sauce. He stuffed it into his mouth.

"Hmmmm." He moaned.

"This is delicious! It's like magic."

I laughed. I took a piece for myself. The crunch of the skin was perfect. The ginger was subtle but warming.

"This is what we enjoy every day since Sophie arrived." I told him.

I pointed to the fresh root on the side.

"Eat the root Daemon. It is part of the experience."

He grabbed a piece. He bit into it. His face immediately twisted. He looked like he had bitten into a lemon.

"It's bitter!" He cried.

Sophie smiled. It was a soft kind of expression.

"Roots are often bitter, Little Prince. But they are good for the body. They make you strong."

"I will only eat the sweet one." Daemon declared.

He went back to the chicken. He was stuffing his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in a week.

"Gentle." I warned him.

"Do not choke. The food is not going anywhere."

I turned to Sophie.

"What is the side dish?"

"They are called Macarons." She said.

She pointed to a plate of small colorful rounds.

"They are like delicate biscuits. I have stuffed them with vanilla cream."

"That is enough." I said.

I didn't understand what Macrons are. I don't even know what biscuits are either. I felt a surge of pride in her skill.

"We shall enjoy the rest of this in peace. Sophie once you are done in the kitchen. Meet me at the royal farm by nightfall. I have something to show you."

She nodded. She curtsied and left the garden.

Daemon and I finished the meal. The maids cleared the plates. He was covered in crumbs and sauce. He looked happier than I had ever seen him.

"I want to do this every day." He said.

"We will try." I promised.

Roland arrived to escort the Young Prince back to Queen Mother Isolde's quarters. I watched them walk away.

I felt light. I went back to my chamber. I picked up my journal. The Ledger of Satiety. I sat at my desk and began to draw the meal.

I captured the shape of the Macarons. I wrote down the word 'Ginger.' I wanted to remember this day.

Evening fell over the Blackwood Kingdom. The sky turned a bruised purple. I left the palace. I headed for the royal farm. It was quiet there. The horses were settled.

I stood in the clearing where Sophie fell on me. I walked through the motions again. I remembered how I caught her at the market. I practiced how I would hold her again. I imagined her falling and me being there to catch her. I found myself smiling at the empty air. I was acting like a fool but I did not care.

I waited. One hour passed. The moon rose high. The crickets began their song. Sophie did not come.

I started to wonder. Perhaps she was delayed in the kitchen. Perhaps she was tired.

But a feeling of dread began to crawl up my neck. Sophie was never late. She was disciplined.

I saw a torch flickering in the distance. It was moving fast. It was Roland. He was running.

My heart hammered. I stepped forward.

"Roland? Where is she?" I asked.

Roland stopped. He was out of breath. His face was pale.. He looked at me with eyes full of grave news.

"Your Majesty." He gasped.

"You must come quickly."

"What happened?" I demanded.

I grabbed his shoulder.

"It's the Chief Royal Chef." Roland said.

"What happened to her?" I demanded.

My heart skipped a beat.

"She has been arrested. She is in the palace prison."

The world went cold. The smile vanished from my face. I felt the wolf inside me growl.

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