Chapter 16: DARK CREATURES

ROSE POV

I raised the clear bottle to my nose and sniffed. It had a rather near-undetectable smell, but I knew better. I knew that for the most seasoned—those who, literally by reason of use, had their senses so well sharpened as to pick up the slightest difference in anything—and those who knew precisely what they were tasting, would know the difference between a simple dish and a poisoned one.

That precisely was why I had gotten the best of the best: the one that was the clearest, the one that was tasteless. It would have been a silent killer if only it hadn’t had a slight salty taste.

"Don't add too much salt," I had instructed the chef.

"Why?" he had asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Because I hear she doesn’t fancy salt. Believe me, I would know," I said. "I am a woman now, and I hear that someone recovering from the loss of a child doesn’t like many tasty things. Not too salty, not too sweet—if anything, reduce the salt."

Harold had simply gazed at me for a brief moment before he shrugged.

"Fine," he said, turning back to his work post, effectively setting me off.

By the time dinner had been prepared, I stood in front of the kitchen and grabbed the tray from the maid.

"She’ll be having dinner in her rooms," I said. "You know she retired early? Remember?"

The Omega eyed me briefly.

"My lady—"

"Luna," I said. "I am Luna to you, Luna to everyone."

"Very well," she said. "But the Alpha did not specify that I give this to you. And then there’s his wife—"

"I’m his mate, meant to be his wife. In as much as he is the leader of the pack, this is my domain. The internal affairs of the household are mine to manage, and if you do not like that, then I will not hesitate to send you home. After all, I do believe we’ve had enough of your littering and staining this great home with your venom."

The Omega’s face turned a deep shade of red.

"I am merely doing my duty," she said. "Believe me, Luna, it is far from me to offend you."

"Then shut up," I said. "Shut up, and don’t keep your body anywhere near me. I do not even want to smell you ever again. Of course, you can still work within the castle; I am not dismissing you just yet. No, I will have you watch," I said.

I snatched the tray from her and quickly began heading to Florence’s quarters. Midway, I paused, setting the tray down on nearby furniture and pulling out the vial from my pocket. Before I poured it in, I tasted the rather well-made soup.

"Peaches," I mumbled, genuinely liking the taste. Incidentally, the chef had done exactly as I asked, making it slightly saltless.

I poured nearly half the contents of the bottle into the soup and suddenly stopped. I wasn’t trying to kill her now, was I? Well, on the bright side, it was more like a mild sedative made to disrupt the inner flows of her body and make it nearly impossible for her to be like me. She would nearly be human, barely a few steps away from an Omega, and even she wouldn’t know when she was being poisoned.

Oh, she wouldn’t know that she was weak. Weak and normal.

Leonard, however, unfortunately hated weakness. He would kick her out because of that, I thought with a smile. I closed the bottle, stirred the soup, and returned to the tray before reaching the door.

I knocked.

"I’m coming inside."

She had been sitting in front of her vanity, brushing her amber-colored hair, before turning towards me and then standing.

"Ma’am," she said, lowering her head in a small bow.

"You didn’t have to," she said, marching over to me and stretching out her hands.

"A little treat," I said, sidestepping her and placing the tray on the coffee table in the small living area of her room. "A little treat from the chef. You know Harold, yes? He’s fond of these things every once in a while. He likes to make something nice. Try it," I said. "He’s worried about you, just as I am."

Her face slowly contorted into a frown.

"Well, I remember how Harold used to be a warrior. He has terrible PTSD and some trauma. We find solace in cooking; it’s a great joy for him. But, of course, you’re not interested in having his creation. It’s quite delicious. But I understand if you don’t like it."

She tilted her head, causing her luscious curls to sway in the process.

"On the contrary," she said. "But I was thinking, since I had dinner not so long ago, that maybe it was a little too much for me to eat again."

"Oh, come on," I said, rolling my eyes. "Here, where we are, I hardly think you have to worry about getting so fat. Besides, your burner will be back in no time. This is simply because you’re recovering."

"You know Harold," I said. "He used to have a mate, and she was pregnant at the time. But there was an unfortunate incident. That was when Leo took the position of Alpha. Barely, if you recall exactly—it was during an attack."

"Rogues," she said.

"Harold lost his mate and their unborn child in the process. Ever since then," I said, "he’s been rather protective of those who are pregnant and even more sympathetic toward those who’ve lost children. He would have been a father, you see," I said.

I noticed the shift in her aura. Her shoulders slumped slightly, her eyes became downturned, and her lips pulled into a small frown.

"I’m sorry to hear that," she said softly. "Of course, I will be glad to have this. Thank you for bringing it to me."

She smiled.

"I was a little worried about that, wondering why it was your priority. You could have sent anyone."

"No," I waved her off. "You fainted again. Perhaps it’s my duty to look after you."

She raised her eyebrow just slightly. For a brief moment, I felt like she could tell what I was plotting. Could she read through me?

I suddenly sucked in some air, pulling in as much of the scent of the room as possible. Nothing strange with it. Perhaps it was just my mind, then, I thought to myself as I smiled and took a couple of steps back.

She plopped down on one of the couches, raised the tray of food, and then took a spoonful. Slowly, her eyes widened and then closed as a look of euphoric happiness took over her features.

Perfect, I thought to myself. It tasted good, especially given the little salty treat I had put in it. Sooner rather than later, she would not just be rendered weak but infertile. Evil, yes, but my mother had always told me to take the bull by the horns—and, in this case, Leo completely for me and none other.

No child would take him from me, especially not a child born of her.

The suspicions I had already been confirmed, and for someone treated like her—so blessed with both fertility and beauty—this was necessary.

She soon began to moan slightly as the taste filled her mouth, as though it were that good.

I chuckled to myself as I soon began to walk away.

"Enjoy," I said.

She hummed in response and did a little dance before continuing in her poisonous dish.