TO SATE AN ALPHA'S FURY

Alpha Stone POV

I walked back to the guest secretariat with Alpha Alaric. The air felt cold.

Alaric walked with a confidence that irritated me. He moved like a man who already won the war.

We reached the sitting room. My three chefs stood by the wall. Fenris looked bored. Varg kept twitching his nose. Skade watched the door.

We sat down. The silence between us was like a sharpened blade.

"You won't win this competition, Stone." Alaric said.

He leaned back in his chair. He did not blink.

"I have heard your boasts before." I replied.

I looked at Fenris.

"My chefs are the finest known in this time. They have cooked for kings and conquerors. Your ghost chef is a girl in a mask."

"She is more than a girl." Alaric said.

His voice was low.

"She is the future of this kingdom. You are about to witness something your tongue cannot forget."

Soon, Sophie arrived.

She carried a silver tray. She did not look at me. She placed the tray on the table.

On the tray sat small, round items. They were colorful. They had a smooth top and a creamy center. I had never seen food that looked like jewels.

"What is this?" I asked.

I let out a laugh of mockery.

"Are we playing with children's toys? I asked for a meal, not pebbles."

"It is a macaron." Sophie said.

Her voice was steady.

"It is a special dessert." Alaric said.

He looked at the tray with pride.

"Sophie made it for me. I believe it is one of the finest desserts that one could ever taste. Go on, Stone. Taste the defeat."

I reached out. I picked up a pink one. It felt light. I put it in my mouth. The shell cracked. The center melted.

A burst of flavor hit my palate. It was sweet. It was complex. I felt my eyes widen.

"Uhhhmmmm!"

I made a pleasing sound before I could stop myself. The flavor was perfect.

"You see? I told you." Alaric teased.

He saw my reaction.

"Your chefs are no match for my chef. You should pack your bags now."

"Oh, please. This is nothing." I replied.

I felt the heat in my face. I forced a look of disgust.

"This is a sugar trick. It is nothing compared to what my chefs are capable of. My men cook meat that can make a wolf weep."

Chef Fenris stepped forward. He looked at the tray.

"May I taste the dessert, Alpha?" Fenris asked.

I nodded. I wanted him to tell me it was garbage. Fenris took a bite. He closed his eyes. He made a pleasant sound. He looked like he was in a trance.

"Hmmmmm." Fenris whispered.

He dropped the rest of the macaron.

He quickly arranged his apparel. He straightened his tunic. He looked like he had made a mistake by appreciating another chef's meal. He refused to look at me.

"I leave you to think about this gamble." Alaric said.

He stood up.

"Make a decision. The stakes are high. My kingdom against yours."

Alaric left the room. His guards followed him. The ghost chef walked behind him. I watched them go.

As soon as I could no longer hear their footsteps, I turned to Fenris. I slammed my fist on the table.

"Why would you gush over her food like that?" I asked.

I roared the words.

"You are my master chef. You made me look like a fool."

"You also gushed over her food, Alpha." Fenris said boldly. He did not flinch.

"We can lie to everyone, but our tongue never lies when it tastes something unique. That girl has a gift. Her hands use magic we do not know."

"It is just a sweet." I muttered.

"It is a warning." Fenris replied.

"We do not have to engage in this competition. You are risking the entire Moon Crescent Pack for a game. If we lose, we lose our land. We lose our identity. It is not worth the risk."

"We will do it because someone has assured me that we would win." I roared.

I thought of Magnus. The Grand Prince had promised me victory.

"From the smell of the dessert, I can tell it is a special one." Varg added.

He was still sniffing the air.

"Her scents are balanced. They are strange. They do not belong to our woods. What if we lose to her, Alpha? The council will hang your head on a spike if you lose the pack."

I sat down. My heart hammered. The taste of the macaron was still in my mouth. It was a terrifying taste. It was the taste of a superior enemy. I saw reason. I realized the danger. I was a fool to listen to Magnus.

"You are right." I said.

My voice was quiet.

"I cannot risk the pack for a mere competition. The stakes are too high. I will tell them the deal is off."

I pulled a small piece of parchment.

I wrote a short message to Magnus. I told him I could not go through with it. I told him the risk was too great. I sent a guard to deliver it.

I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

Not long after, the door opened. It was not Magnus.

It was Elder Hrothgar. He did not look like a man of peace. He carried a heavy, leather-bound book. He placed it on the table in front of me.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It is a record." Hrothgar said.

He opened the pages.

"This book records all the offerings you, Alpha Stone has collected from the Blackwood Kingdom over the last five years."

I felt the blood drain from my face. I looked at the numbers. Every bag of grain. Every jar of gold. Every crate of medicine I had taken in secret was listed there.

"These offerings did not get to your council." Hrothgar said.

His voice was like a snake.

"You kept the best for yourself. You grew fat while your people ate scraps. If we show this to your pack, they will tear you apart."

"You would not dare." I whispered.

"We will let all your secrets be exposed." Hrothgar threatened.

"The Moon Crescent Pack loves a strong leader. They hate a thief. We will tell them you sold their future for your own silk sheets."

"What do you want?" I asked.

I gripped the edge of the chair.

"Engage in the competition." Hrothgar said.

"Grand Prince Magnus will ensure Moon Crescent wins. He has already prepared the way. The ghost chef will fail. You will take the harvest rights. You will be a hero to your people."

"And if I refuse?" I asked.

"Then you will be a corpse by sundown." Hrothgar replied.

He closed the book. He left the room without another word.

I stayed in the dark. My chefs watched me. They knew I was trapped. I had no choice. I had to play the game of the Grand Prince.

The next morning, I set up a meeting with Alpha Alaric in the Great Hall. The sun was bright, but I felt cold. Alaric sat on his throne. He looked at me with those gold eyes.

"Have you made your choice, Stone?" Alaric asked.

"I have." I said.

I stood tall. I hid the trembling in my hands.

"I have agreed to the stakes. The competition will hold. My chefs against your ghost chef. My harvest rights against your crown."

Alaric smiled. It was a look of pure joy. He thought he had me. He thought his chef would save his kingdom. I looked at him and felt a dark pity.

Blackwood can never win when their kingdom is divided against it own king.