Chapter 23 Chapter 23
Anya’s POV
I slowly, cautiously, picked up my fork. I took one small bite, then another.
When I dared to look up, he was completely absorbed in his food. He was eating with a focused, almost appreciation, utterly unbothered by the hundreds of eyes and whispers directed at us. He didn't care about any of them.
A strange, defiant thought hit me. He's the Alpha. He does whatever he wants.
So, I did the same. I stopped picking at my plate like a terrified mouse and I ate. I ate the bread, the fruit, the eggs. I ate as if I hadn't had a real meal in days, because I hadn't.
And that's when he stopped.
Mid-bite, his fork froze halfway to his mouth. I looked up, my own hand pausing, and found him staring at me.
It wasn't anger. It wasn't annoyance. It was... fascination. A still, focused, predatory intensity. He was watching me with the same look he'd had last night—that look of an animal hunger.
It was the look of a wolf watching a lamb, as if I were the most beautiful, interesting thing he'd ever seen.
A cold dread washed over me, and the food in my stomach turned to stone.
Oh.
I understood.
He was just fattening his prey before the slaughter.
The moment breakfast was over, I stood. I saw Alpha Kai turn, deep in a serious conversation with Beta Miguel.
This was my chance.
While every eye was still on the Alpha, I didn't just walk—I fled. I slipped away from the high table, my heart pounding, and melted into the shadows along the wall where the other servants were gathering plates.
I spotted her. Carla's head snapped up, her eyes wide with a terror that mirrored my own.
She saw me and immediately started moving, gesturing for me to follow. She grabbed my hand, not waiting for a single word, and pulled me along, her grip iron-tight.
We didn't stop until we were out the back exit, hidden from view in the same spot by the gardens.
The second we were alone, she threw her arms around me, hugging me so tightly I thought my ribs would crack.
It wasn't just a friendly embrace; it was the desperate, clinging hug of someone who had been expecting to find a corpse.
She pulled back, her hands gripping my shoulders, her eyes scanning me frantically for injuries. "Anya, oh gods, are you okay?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "I saw you at breakfast... after last night... all night... Did he hurt you? Did he...?"
Her eyes widened in sudden, terrible realization. "The wolfsbane! Where is it? Did you use it?"
I nodded, my voice hollow and exhausted. "I... I used it on the first night, when he... he was changing. I threw it at him. It's gone."
Carla's face went pale. She immediately fumbled in her apron pocket, pulling out another dried, dark sprig. "Here," she hissed, trying to press it into my hand. "Take this one. I have one more hidden, just take it—"
I shook my head, pushing her hand away gently but firmly.
"No, Carla," I said, my voice quiet. "You keep it. You need it more than I do."
We heard a snap of a twig.
We both froze, but it was already too late. A tall, graceful figure rounded the corner, blocking our escape path.
Her arms were crossed, and a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow was raised.
"The human servant," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt.
My blood ran cold. Beatrice. The high-ranking she-wolf.
"Anya, let's go, now," Carla whispered, yanking on my arm, trying to pull me back toward the kitchens.
We didn't take two steps.
Beatrice moved with a speed that was a blur. Her hand shot out, not at Carla, but at me. Her fingers, impossibly strong, clamped around my throat, cutting off my air.
She didn't just push me; she threw me.
I slammed into the cobblestones, the impact jarring every bone in my body. I landed hard on my shoulder, skidding a few feet.
A choked, painful gasp tore from my lungs as I tried to get air, coughing violently.
I looked up from the ground, dizzy and terrified. Beatrice was stalking toward me, a look of utter disgust on her perfect face.
"You're weak," she hissed, looming over me. "A pathetic, fragile little thing. What does he even want with you, hmm?"
"Lady Beatrice—" Carla cried, rushing forward. "Stop! She's the Alpha's—"
Beatrice didn't even look at her. Her hand snapped out, seizing Carla by the hair. Before Carla could even scream, Beatrice smashed her head sideways into the stone wall.
There was a sickening, wet thud.
Carla's eyes rolled back. Her body went completely limp, and she crumpled to the ground, unmoving.
"CARLA!" I shrieked, my voice tearing with horror as I scrambled, uselessly, toward her still form.