Oh, God, this crazy Alpha has the appetite of a monster and. What does he an he wants another food? And a different one at that? The pantry felt like the only safe place left in the entire pack house, and even that was a lie. The mont I closed my hand around the slab of beef, I felt him there not physically, but in the weight pressing against my skull, that soundless murmur brushing along my thoughts like claws tracing glass.
Inner voice: Look at her, clutching it like a baby. She really thinks food will keep still. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m just the kind of wolf who needs to be fed before I bite.
My breath snagged in my throat. I turned slowly, holding the beef as though keeping it level would keep safe. He wasn’t in the pantry, but I knew better than to think he wasn’t nearby. Zach didn’t follow like a man he lingered like a shadow.The kitchen was dim except for the amber light above the stove. The corners seed darker than they should be, like the shadows thickened around him. He stood with one hand on the counter, the other in his pocket, watching without blinking. I set the beef down, fingers fumbling for the knife. My palms were slick, and the wooden handle felt too smooth to grip.
Inner voice: Careful, little oga. Slippery hands drop things. And dropped knives... well, they don’t always miss.
I swallowed hard, setting the tip of the blade against the at. It gave way under the pressure, the wet, dull sound filling my ears.
Inner voice: She’s gentle. How sweet. But at isn’t for pity. at is for teeth. For tearing.
I forced the blade through faster, my wrists aching with each push. My heartbeat was in my ears, loud enough to drown the faint hum of the refrigerator. I focused on the chopping on the uniformity of the cubes, the precision of each slice because if I didn’t, I’d have to think about the way he was breathing behind . This crazy psycho is slowly driving insane.
Inner voice: Slow down. No, speed up. I can’t decide which makes you sweat more.
The knife nicked my thumb. A sharp sting. I hissed and jerked my hand back, staring at the tiny bead of red blooming on my skin.
"Inner voice: Spill more. Co on spill more, Let sll it.
My breath ca quicker. I wiped the blood on my apron, refusing to et his eyes. The pot hissed as I dropped the at into the simring broth. Steam burst upward, filling my face with the scent of raw, iron-rich beef turning soft in the heat. My stomach knotted. He moved close enough that his arm brushed my shoulder as he reached for the pepper grinder on the counter. Slowly, lazily, he turned it over the pot, letting a few dark flecks fall into the broth before setting it down exactly where my hand needed to go next. I hesitated. He didn’t move out of the way. I had to brush past his fingers to grab it. I stirred the soup, my hands trembling around the wooden spoon. Steam blurred my vision, carrying the rich scent of at and bone.
"Inner voice: Sll that? That’s survival in a bowl. Yours. For now. "
The words curled around my spine. I didn’t answer.
"Salt," I murmured, mostly to myself, reaching for the small ceramic dish.
"Add more. I want to taste it on you. "He said in his inner voice.
I sprinkled the salt in without looking at him, my pulse hamring in my throat. The soup bubbled louder, almost like it was boiling faster just because I was under his gaze.
"You will like this, Alpha," I said, my voice paper-thin. He didn’t step back, not even when I reached for the ladle. I filled the bowl carefully, my hands so unsteady the broth rippled dangerously close to the rim. His fingers brushed mine as he took it, the contact deliberate, the heat of his skin lingering too long. He sat at the table, his chair angled so he could watch every movent I made.The first spoonful disappeared slowly, his lips closing around the tal like he was savoring more than just the food.
"Inner Voice: This toad really cooks well, so tender and succulent, and it Falls apart in the mouth. Makes wonder...
I froze mid-step.
"Inner voice: Makes wonder how human at tastes.
The words hit like a physical blow, cutting the air from my lungs. My fingers went numb. The floor tilted beneath , and the steam, the sll, the weight of his eyes everything swirled together into a dizzy blur. I heard his chuckle not out loud, but inside my head, dark and satisfied as my knees gave way. The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed was his spoon dipping lazily back into the soup, like nothing at all had happened.
I woke to warmth I didn’t want. Not the gentle kind that cos from sunlight through a window. This was heavy, suffocating, pressing in on my skin until my pulse felt too loud in my ears. The surface beneath was too soft to be my cot. The blanket over was thick and smooth, nothing like the scratchy old thing in my room. My fingertips brushed the sheet it was cool silk, catching faintly on the rough pads of my fingers. I blinked hard. Shapes blurred, then sharpened: a high ceiling, dark beams, walls paneled in black wood. A lamp burned low in the corner, its light pooling like liquid amber.
Not my room. And I was not in the ogas quarters too. My stomach dropped. The air slled different here. Not the mixed scents of dozens of wolves, food, and dust. This was cleaner, sharper cedar smoke and sothing darker, a heat that didn’t co from fire. It’s the psycho Alpha’s scent. I shot upright. The blanket slid from my shoulders, revealing my dress still on, but the top buttons undone, the fabric loose around my collarbone. My apron and shoes were gone. My head throbbed with a dull ache, the mory of collapsing slamming back into .
Inner voice: Look who’s awake.
His voice slid into my head like warm oil, unhurried, invasive. I jerked toward the sound, but the corner where I thought it ca from was empty. My pulse hamred. I scanned the room the tall black door, the heavy curtains drawn tight across the windows. The shadows seed too deep, as if sothing hid just beyond sight. My first step toward the door was careful. My bare foot sank into the thick rug without a sound. My second step made the floor creak, and I froze. I reached the door. My palm hovered over the cold tal handle. He would have locked it. He always locked things he didn’t want touched. But when I turned it, it moved easily. Unlocked. I swallowed hard and opened it just enough to slip through. The hallway beyond was dim, lit by wall sconces that flickered faintly. The air here felt colder, the scent of polish and old paper replacing the cedar heat of his room. I crept forward, bare feet silent against the runner rug. Every door I passed was closed, their dark wood gleaming faintly. The walls were hung with portraits stern-faced Alphas I didn’t dare glance at too long. The stairwell lood ahead, spiraling down into shadow. I gripped the railing, my fingertips white with tension, and began to descend.
"Inner voice: Left foot first. Yes. Just like that. You’re quieter when you think soone’s listening.
I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. I didn’t look around. The first floor stretched out before long hallways, the faint outline of the dining room to one side, and straight ahead, the main door. Tall, black, frad with cold iron. Every instinct scread at to run for it.
I crossed the hall, each step a held breath. My fingers touched the handle and it turned. The cold night air spilled in, sharp and clean in my lungs. I stepped out onto the porch, the boards creaking under my weight. Beyond the yard, the forest crouched in the moonlight, its trees dark against the pale silver sky.
"Inner voice: Run.
I didn’t think, I ran with all my strength. The grass was stiff with frost, biting into the soles of my feet. My breath burst from in clouds as I crossed the open ground and plunged into the trees. Branches whipped my arms. The ground was uneven, hidden roots snagging at my toes. My heartbeat drowned out every other sound.
Inner voice: That’s it. Run. I want to see how far you think you can go.
I gritted my teeth and pushed harder. The forest was dense, the canopy blotting out much of the moonlight. Shadows shifted with each gust of wind. I dodged between trunks, my lungs burning, legs shaking. Minutes passed, maybe five? ten? I didn’t know. My body ached, but I kept going. Every ti I thought I heard movent behind , I glanced back and saw nothing.
maybe I had lost him, I slowed, ducking behind a wide oak. My breath ca in ragged bursts, loud in my ears. I pressed my back to the bark, peering into the darkness, but no one was there. The silence here was thick. Not a bird, not an insect, not even the rustle of leaves just the faint whistle of wind high above. I slipped around the tree and kept moving, quieter now. I picked my way over a fallen log, through a patch of ferns, and deeper into the forest. My mind began mapping the way back just in case.Then I saw it A shadow, far ahead, between the trees. Motionless. I almost died of fear. It didn’t move. Maybe it was a tree stump.
"Inner voice: It’s rude to hide when I’m letting you play.
The voice ca from behind . I spun, but there was no one there. Panic surged hot in my chest. I bolted again, this ti not caring about noise. My feet tore through leaves and twigs, pain shooting up my legs with every step. I veered left, then right, doubling back, hoping to confuse him if he was even following. Minutes stretched. The forest thinned slightly, moonlight spilling into patches on the ground. I could see the faint silver of the river ahead. If I crossed it, maybe, I pushed harder. My chest burned. And then He was there. Just leaning casually against a tree a few yards ahead, the moonlight catching in his hair, his eyes locked on mine.
"Inner voice: Took you long enough.
I stumbled to a stop, gasping. "How—"
"Shh." The sound was soft, but it rooted to the spot.
He stepped forward, slow, unhurried, the way you approach sothing you already own.
"You let run," I whispered, the truth curdling in my gut.
"Inner voice: And you did so well. Made it all the way here. I’m proud.
The praise in his voice was worse than the chase.
"Why?" My voice cracked.
"Inner voice: Prey runs better when it thinks it has a chance.
He stopped inches away, his scent wrapping around like heat from a fire. "Ready to go back?" he asked aloud, his tone almost kind. I shook my head before I could stop myself.
"Inner voice: Hmmm. Maybe I should let you get further next ti.
The image blood in my mind his shadow at my back, his hand closing around my arm mid-stride, his teeth brushing my neck. My knees buckled slightly. His smile deepened. "Next ti," he murmured, "I’ll make the hunt last longer." Before I could move, his hand closed around my wrist warm, strong, final. The forest spun away, replaced by the inescapable fact: I had never been out of his reach.
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