The first ti I cooked noodles for the psycho Alpha, I had no idea it would change everything.
Back then, I was trembling so hard that I nearly dropped the pot. The Alpha’s quarters were vast and silent, filled with the heavy scent of pine and dominance. Every ti I stepped inside, my body tensed like I was walking into a lion’s den. But I was desperate.
I needed him to see not as another faceless oga, not as soone he could strangle at will, but as a person. As Ellie.
So that morning, I had stood by the small stove, carefully stirring the noodles in boiling water, mixing in spices from the oga’s kitchen red pepper flakes, garlic, and a splash of sesa oil I’d begged Elizabeth for.
The scent alone brought tears to my eyes. It reminded of my world. Of rainy nights in my apartnt after long shifts at the hospital, slurping noodles while half-asleep in front of my laptop. I could almost hear the faint hum of the city again, the car horns, the chatter of people who didn’t have fangs or claws.
Maybe it was foolish, but I hoped if I could make sothing from my world, sothing simple, warm, and human maybe I could lt a corner of his frozen heart.
I plated the noodles carefully and placed the bowl on the Alpha’s dining table. The air in the room shifted the mont I heard his footsteps. Oh God, it’s The psycho Alpha His presence always filled the room like a storm. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his golden eyes unreadable as ever. His scent dark cedar and cold rain made my chest tighten with fear.
He stopped in front of the table and stared down at the steaming bowl.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
"N-Noodles, Alpha," I stamred. "It’s... sothing I made. For you."
He didn’t move for a long ti. My hands grew damp as I stood there, waiting for his anger or worse, that cold, amused smirk he always wore before threatening soone.
Then, without a word, he picked up the chopsticks and took a bite. My breath caught.
He didn’t stop after one bite. He kept eating, slow and deliberate, as if testing each flavor. I could see his expression shift slightly barely visible, but enough to make my heart skip.
He finished the entire bowl.
When he finally set the chopsticks down, he didn’t look at . He simply said, "Make it again tomorrow."
Then he walked away. Just like that. No yelling. No insults. No threats.
It was the first ti I’d ever seen him leave the table without breaking sothing or scaring soone. And that night, for the first ti since I woke up in this cruel world, I dared to hope.
From that day on, noodles beca part of the Alpha’s routine. Every morning, I woke up early, boiled the water, and prepared them exactly the sa spicy, garlicky, and simple.
He never complinted , but he always ate them.
And when I forgot one morning because I’d overslept from exhaustion, he called to his study. His tone had been calm, but his eyes burned with silent rage.
"Why weren’t the noodles ready today?"
My heart had dropped. "I—I overslept, Alpha."
His lips twitched slightly, his voice almost a whisper. "Don’t let it happen again."
That was when I realized sothing terrifying.
He was addicted.
Not just to the taste but to the routine.
The sight of bringing the noodles every morning. The sll that filled the room. The soft sound of placing the bowl before him.
He didn’t say it aloud, but I could feel it that strange, quiet attachnt forming, one neither of us understood. And maybe just maybe that was my way in. But this morning was different. When I brought the noodles into his study, Lucien was standing by the window, shirtless, his hair still damp from a shower. The early sunlight hit his skin, turning the faint scars across his back into pale silver lines. I froze mid-step. He turned, his golden eyes locking on .
"You’re early," he said, his tone unreadable.
"I wanted to make sure you had breakfast, Alpha." He didn’t answer. His gaze lingered on the bowl, then on — longer than usual. My pulse quickened. I could feel the air grow heavier with every second.
"Set it down," he said finally.
I did, my hands trembling slightly.
As I stepped back, his voice ca again, quieter this ti. "You’re the only one who makes this."
I blinked. "Alpha?"
His eyes flickered, like he hadn’t ant to say that aloud. He sat down and picked up the chopsticks. "It’s... tolerable," he muttered before tasting it.
I almost laughed. Tolerable. That was his version of a complint.
He didn’t speak again, but I noticed sothing. Every ti I shifted to leave, his gaze followed . Just slightly — like he didn’t want too far away.
He finished the bowl again, slower this ti, savoring it.
And when he was done, he didn’t dismiss imdiately.
Instead, he said quietly, "You may stay."
My heart skipped. Stay? I didn’t know what that ant — if it was an order, a warning, or sothing else entirely. But I obeyed, standing silently by the corner of the room while he read his docunts. For a while, the only sound was the rustle of paper and his slow breathing. It was strangely peaceful. Until he suddenly spoke.
"You’ve stopped shaking."
My head snapped up. "Alpha?"
"Before," he said, his eyes still fixed on the page. "Every ti you entered this room, you trembled. But today, you didn’t."
"I... I’m trying to do better."
He humd lowly, setting the docunt aside. Then, finally, he looked at like really looked. His gaze was calm but searching, like he was trying to read sothing in my face.
"I don’t like weakness," he said softly. "But I also don’t like losing what’s... useful."
My throat tightened. "Useful, Alpha?"
His lips curved faintly. "Your noodles."
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So that was it. I was safe... as long as the noodles kept him calm. As long as I kept feeding the psycho Alpha, maybe he wouldn’t strangle . But deep down, I felt sothing twist — sothing frighteningly human. Maybe the witch was right. Maybe this was the beginning of sothing far more dangerous than death itself. Because the more he ate my noodles, the more his golden eyes lingered on and the more I began to forget that I ever wanted to escape.That night, when I returned to the ogas’ quarters, Elizabeth asked
, "How did it go today?"I smiled faintly, my voice trembling. "He ate everything."
Elizabeth looked relieved. "That’s good, Ellie. The Alpha doesn’t eat much from anyone else."
I nodded slowly, but inside, my chest felt heavy. He didn’t just eat. He needed it now. And maybe he was starting to need . But I couldn’t let myself fall for the illusion. Because I knew — once the Alpha got tired of sothing, he destroyed it. And if I wasn’t careful, I might be next. Still, as I lay down that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his voice softened when he said I could stay. Maybe, just maybe, this was how it began — not love, not yet — but the first thread that would eventually pull out of this cursed world. Or wrap tighter around my neck.
Sleep had refused to co the night before; my mind had been full of Alpha Zach’s quiet voice, the sound of him saying I could stay, and the way his golden eyes had lingered on longer than they ever had. It shouldn’t have made my heart race but it did. Still, I knew better than to trust monts like that. The psycho Alpha could be unpredictable. Gentle one second, terrifying the next. So when I got out of bed, I made a silent vow: don’t get comfortable, Ellie. Just keep surviving.
I slipped into the clean gray uniform of a personal oga and tied my hair into a neat bun. The corridors were silent as I made my way toward the Alpha’s quarters, carrying my basket of fresh noodles, the sa way I always did.
The cold morning air brushed against my skin, and the faint scent of pine and smoke drifted through the halls. Everything was too quiet almost unnaturally so.
When I finally reached the heavy door of Lucien’s chambers, I paused for a second to breathe. Then, I pushed it open slowly.
The mont I stepped inside, I froze.bThe room was empty.
No scent of him. No presence. Nothing.bThe bed was neatly made, the window slightly ajar, and the fire in the hearth had gone cold. For soone as ticulous as him, that silence was wrong very wrong.nMy heart began to pound.
"Alpha?" I called softly, just in case he was in another room. "Alpha Lucien?"
No response, only he echo of my own voice ca back to , small and hollow.
I set the basket of noodles on the table and stood still, every instinct screaming that sothing was off. The uneasiness that crawled through my body wasn’t just fear; it was that sa heavy, suffocating energy that always filled the air before he appeared except now it was gone.
It was like he had vanished from the pack entirely.
I took a slow step forward, scanning the room the books neatly stacked on his desk, his coat hanging over the chair, the faint imprint of boots on the carpet. Everything looked normal, yet the emptiness pressed against like a weight.
"Where did you go..." I murmured under my breath.
The silence answered back.
My pulse quickened. The psycho Alpha never left without reason, and if he did it was never good. Who is he going to kill now?"
What if sothing happened to him?
I imdiately shook the thought away. Why was I even worrying? This was zach The sa man who could silence an entire room with one look. The sa man who once ordered a guard flogged because he didn’t like the way the man breathed.
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