Chapter 8 Chapter 8
Anya’s POV
My eyes widened in horror. "Wolfsbane?"
My hand reflexively closed around the brittle sprig, and I shoved it deep into my pocket, my eyes darting nervously around the quiet path. I was suddenly terrified that a guard would see us, that I'd be caught with something so clearly forbidden.
"Yes," Carla said, her face dead serious. "It's for your protection. You do want to live, don't you?"
I gave a jerky, convulsive nod. "Yes," I whispered. "I... I'd like to live to 100, if possible."
The words came out as a weak, trembling attempt at a joke, and to my complete shock, Carla let out a short, sudden laugh. It was a nervous sound, not a humorous one.
"Right. Well, this will help with that," she said, her expression sobering instantly. She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Okay, listen. It's not a poison, it won't kill them, nothing like that," she explained, speaking quickly.
"But it burns them. The second it touches their skin, it's like acid. The pain is intense—it's enough to stop an attack, to make them recoil. It will give you a chance to get away."
She glanced over her shoulder, back toward the massive fortress. "In a place like this... it's just something we humans need to have."
A wave of overwhelming emotion washed over me, so strong it took my breath away. Before I could even think, I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly.
"I..." I mumbled into her shoulder, my voice thick. "For the first time in my life, I feel like someone is actually worried about me." I pulled back, swiping at a tear. "We just met. I don't know why you're being so kind, but thank you. Thank you so much."
Carla's expression softened. She gave my shoulder a comforting pat. "It's nothing," she said, though her eyes were serious. "It's just... I wouldn't want to see you end up dead one morning. Like all the others before you."
"Thank you," I whispered again, the word feeling small but heavy with meaning.
And just like that, we clicked. We stayed out there in the cool air, and I found myself talking about my life, telling her about the orphanage, about always being alone. She listened, and then she told me about her own life—how she was born into this, the daughter of a pack servant, destined to be one herself.
In a way, we were the same. Both trapped, both starting with nothing. The only difference was that she knew where she came from. I didn't even have that.
Later that night, Carla guided me toward the kitchens for the servant's meal. We were supposed to line up with the others to get our food before serving the main pack. I was trying to keep my head down, to blend in, but a sharp voice cut through the din.
"You. Stop there."
I froze. Madam Divina was glaring at me, her eyes raking over me with an expression of contempt, as if I were a cockroach.
"Where have you been all day?" she demanded, her voice loud enough to make several other servants flinch.
Before I could stammer out an answer, the Head Cook—a large, imposing woman with flour dusting her eyebrows—spoke up without even turning around from the massive stew pot she was stirring.
"She's been with us, Madam Divina," the cook said, her voice a low rumble. "Had her peeling potatoes since noon. My fault, I needed the extra hands."
I let out a shaky, inaudible sigh of relief. The cook had just lied for me. A stranger had protected me. A tiny, fragile spark of hope ignited in my chest. Maybe Carla was right. Maybe humans protected their own here.
I gulped, watching as Madam Divina’s face tightened. She was clearly furious at being contradicted, but she knew better than to challenge the Head Cook during the dinner rush.
Instead, she transferred all her venom back to me. "Well, in that case," she sneered, "you can go and prepare Alpha Kai's tray. He must be starving by now, seeing as his personal maid was so busy 'helping' in the kitchens."
I lowered my head, my face burning. "Yes, Madam."
I scurried past her into the main kitchen area, but my relief immediately turned to ice-cold panic. My eyes widened as I looked around. What am I supposed to prepare?
There were massive platters of roasted meat, vats of stew, and mountains of bread, but that was all for the main pack. What did he eat? Everyone else was grabbing ladles and heading out to the pack's dining hall.
I was left completely alone, surrounded by food I wasn't allowed to touch, totally confused and utterly lost.
"Well, fuck this," I whispered to myself, my hands shaking.
I just started grabbing things. A hunk of bread, a whole roasted chicken, a wedge of cheese, an apple... I piled it all onto the heavy silver tray, not caring what it looked like, just knowing it had to be full.
My heart battered against my ribs with every step I took down the silent, torch-lit hallway. I balanced the tray on my hip and knocked, my knuckles barely making a sound. Why did he eat alone, anyway? Why was he so separate from everyone?
I heard his low voice command, "Enter."
I slipped inside, my eyes glued to the floor, and crept over to the massive table. I set the heavy tray down, the clink of the silver on the dark wood sounding like a gunshot in the tense silence.
He was standing by the window, watching the night. He turned, his gaze falling from my face to the haphazard, overflowing tray. He didn't move for a long, agonizing moment. Then, he slowly ran a hand through his hair, his gaze lifting back to mine.
His lip curled in a small, contemptuous sneer. "Are you feeding a pig, little human?"
I flinched and took an involuntary step back, the blood draining from my face. Oh, gods. Did I offend him again? How?
I gulped, my mouth opening, but no sound came out. And right into that suffocating, heavy silence, my stomach betrayed me.
It let out a loud, long, mortifying growl.
A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face. He looked almost amused. "Ah. You're hungry, too?" he mused, his voice laced with mockery. "Did you pile the tray high so you could eat with me? How bold of you."
"What? No!" I practically yelped, horrified. "Alpha, I... I don't want to eat with you—"
I broke off, my hand flying to my mouth, realizing my fatal mistake a second too late. Am I being rude again?
His smirk vanished. His face went perfectly, terrifyingly still. He raised a single, arrogant eyebrow.
"What... did you just say?"