Chapter 7 Chapter 7
Anya’s POV
I straightened up, trying to wipe the terror from my face, and immediately hurried after her.
Divina didn't slow down until we reached the kitchens. The moment we arrived, I was hit by a wall of oppressive heat, steam, and noise.
My head spun. I almost fainted right there on the threshold. The kitchen was pure chaos—dozens of cooks and servants were shouting orders, clattering pots, and running in every direction, their arms laden with vegetables, slabs of meat, and sacks of flour.
Madam Divina didn't even enter. She just pointed a long, bony finger at a mountain of dirty dishes piled near a stone basin. "Wash all of those," she snapped. "You don't stop until I say so."
And just like that, she was gone, leaving me stranded in the doorway.
I took a hesitant step inside, feeling completely out of place. A young maid about my age, her face flushed from the heat, glanced up from chopping onions. Her eyes widened slightly.
"You're the new girl, aren't you?" she asked, her voice surprisingly curious. "The Alpha's personal servant?"
I just nodded, bracing myself. I expected the sneer, the jealous remark, the start of my next round of torment. But it never came.
Instead, she just looked confused. "What are you doing down here, then?" she said, gesturing with her knife. "You shouldn't be in the kitchens. You're supposed to be... well, serving the Alpha, right?"
"But... Madam Divina told me to wash these plates," I said, my voice small, gesturing helplessly at the towering, greasy pile.
A genuine, warm smile spread across her face, "My name is Carla, by the way. And you?"
Her kindness was disarming. I offered a small, watery smile in return, my voice still shaky. "Anya." I cautiously extended my hand, and she shook it firmly.
"Such a lovely name," she said. Then, she lowered her voice, leaning in. "Listen, Anya, you can't stay here. There are servants specifically assigned to the scullery. This isn't your job."
"But Madam Divina said—"
Before I could finish the protest, she grabbed my arm. Her grip wasn't rough or bruising like the Beta's, but it was firm and insistent. "Come on!" she whispered, dragging me right back out of the oppressive heat of the kitchen.
She led me down a short, dim hallway I hadn't noticed, to a small, unmarked wooden door. "This is just a staff exit," she explained, pushing it open. "It's where we go when we need a moment of fresh air."
We stepped out into the cool, quiet afternoon. We were at the very back of the fortress, hidden from the main courtyards and the front gates. The view was breathtaking—a rolling green landscape dotted with massive, age-old trees.
We walked for a few moments, and I felt my shoulders slowly unhitching from my ears. The silence was a balm after the terror of the last few hours.
"So," she asked, her tone gentle, "how did the Alpha find you?"
I hesitated, biting my lower lip as the memory surfaced. "Ah... he found me in the woods, in the middle of the night. I was running away from Alpha Borin."
Her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh. So the rumors are true. Your fiancé... that's Alpha Borin, isn't it?" She shuddered, her face twisting in disgust. "The Lunatic."
"That's him," I said, a cold knot forming in my stomach.
Carla shuddered again, then looked at me, her expression suddenly sharp with confusion. "Wait. You ran into Alpha Kai at night? In the woods? And he didn't... hurt you?"
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper. "Anya, nobody sees the Alpha after sundown. He... he's different. He gets vicious. It's his curse, they all say. A rage he can't control."
My own eyes widened, my mind flashing back to the cold, controlled man in the chamber. "He... he wasn't like that. He was terrifying, yes, but he wasn't... feral. He was in complete control."
Carla's jaw dropped. "Are you... are you sure you're human?"
"Yes! Of course, I am!" I said, a little offended.
She just stared at me, her gaze sweeping over me as if searching for some kind of glamour or trick. "But... that's impossible," she breathed. "He should have torn you apart."
I shrugged, though the movement was shaky. "I don't know. All I know is he hasn't killed me... yet. And I have to find a way to survive here." I took a deep breath. "He... he assigned me to bring him his meals."
Carla looked relieved for a second. "Oh. Well, that's not so bad, I suppose. Just taking a tray to—"
"At midnight," I interrupted, my voice quiet. "You said he gets aggressive at midnight. That's when I have to go to him. Alone."
The color drained from her face. She grabbed my arms, her fingers digging in. "Oh my gods, Anya, are you serious? To his chambers? At midnight?" She looked frantic, her eyes darting around. "That's not a job, that's a death sentence! No one has survived that!"
Her hands flew to the pocket of her apron, fumbling for something. "Here," she hissed, shoving a small, dried sprig of a dark herb into my hand. It was brittle and cold. "Take this. If he loses control—if he tries to hurt you—you use this. It's the only thing that will stop him."
I gasped, a new, colder fear seeping into my bones as I stared at the plant. "What is this?"
"Wolfsbane."