My legs felt like soggy noodles, ironic, considering the situation as I stumbled out of the storeroom. Joan tried to grab my arm, her face pale with worry. "Ellie, don’t go."
"I don’t think I have a choice," I whispered to her, my voice barely louder than a breath. "It’s either go... or I get deep-fried."
I straightened my apron, brushed invisible dust off my trembling skirt, and forced my feet to move. One step at a time we passed through the kitchen. Down the corridor. Up the stairs. Past the guards who avoided my eyes. Past two omegas whispering, "I feel so sorry for her Alpha Zach is going to kill her" as I passed.
"Yes he’s going to kill me, I said to myself.
The large oak doors of his office loomed in front of me like the gates of hell. I hesitated, then lifted a trembling hand and knocked twice.
"Come in," came the voice Deep, Calm, and Murderous.
Here goes nothing, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The Alpha sat behind a desk that looked like it has been carved from the bones of the innocent people he killed or maybe I was just seeing things. His black shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing a muscular chest I really had no business noticing right now. His eyes locked onto me the moment I stepped in.
I Gulp and did as I was told. The click of the latch sounded like my death sentence.
I walked forward slowly, very slowly, my whole body trembling like someone approaching a hungry lion while holding a raw steak in their hands. His eyes roamed over me. I tried not to look into them because I knew once I did, I might forget how to breathe. He wasn’t just intimidating. He was. He’s trying to look through my soul. "Sit."
What, this is the first time he’s asking me to sit, immediately I sat, He leaned forward, fingers steepled. "You failed me."
My heart dropped into my stomach. "I-I didn’t mean to, I-I I’m sorry Alpha
"You said you would feed me more noodles."
"I didn’t promise, I-I said I will go and look for flour but i couldn’t find any. I’m sorry Alpha
"You let my craving awaken and now there is no cure."
Oh. My. Goddess is this psycho having a noodle withdrawal.
"Alpha," I said gently, "I swear on all the flour in the mortal world, I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I didn’t know you’d want more. Ten plates, that’s... that’s not normal!"
He stood up abruptly. I flinched. He didn’t attack me though. Instead, he started pacing. "Ever since I tasted that... that infernal, spicy, delightful ribbon of wonder... I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I can’t function!"
"Ribbon of wonder...?" I echoed dumbly.
He stopped and glared at me. "You. What kind of dark magic did you lace it with?"
My mouth dropped open. "Alpha, it’s just noodle it’s not dark magic ?"
"You’re a spy from the enemy pack, aren’t you? Come to seduce me with food so I lower my guard. Is this your plan? Culinary warfare?!"
"What?! No! I just happened to transmigrate into this world. I’m from a modern world where noodles are, like, a staple. They’re not weapons, they’re carbs!" I said quietly to myself.
He narrowed his eyes. "Transmigrated?"
Shit, i said that loud. I bit my tongue. "I mean—uh—that’s what we call people who... migrate... through... trances?"
"What is she even saying? I need noodles, I want it now, she need to get it for me, I don’t care how she will do it, but I want noodles or else i will kill her. he said in his inner voice
Silence stretched for a full ten seconds. Then, he slowly walked toward me. I sat perfectly still, trying not to scream or sneeze or breathe weirdly. He stopped in front of me, so close I could smell the chili oil still clinging to his breath. It was weirdly comforting. Terrifying, but comforting, what is happening to me?"
"I like that noodle," he said, leaning even closer, "you will make them again. Every day. Until I say stop."
"A-A-Alpha I don’t have flour! I said, shaking.
I blinked. "From where?"
"I don’t know. Hunt it. Steal it. Grow it. Birth it. I don’t care. I want noodles, and you’re going to get me more."
Is this psycho hearing himself?
"Alpha," I said, clutching my apron, "if I step outside this pack’s borders to look for flour, won’t I be torn apart by rogues?"
"Then don’t get caught," he said with a smirk. And if you try to runaway, I will catch you.
I wanted to cry. Instead, I asked the only question that mattered now. "What if I get caught, who will protect me from the rouges out there?
"You belong to the pack. Your life has a use." Then his gaze dropped, and for a second, he didn’t look like a psycho killer. He looked... possessive. Like I was a prized possession. "You make something no one else here has ever made. That makes you valuable."
Why did I ever cook for him? I was only trying to save a life and now my own life is at stake because of the noodles I cooked for this psycho. I felt like a prisoner who accidentally invented gold. Maybe this will be a good opportunity for me to runaway from here
"I will assign guards," he said. "You will go to the other packs to look for flour. Buy as many as you can.
His eyes narrowed. Don’t even try to run away. "I know everything in my territory."
He turned and walked back to his desk. "You leave at dawn. If you don’t come back with enough flour to make me twenty plates, I will be very disappointed."
"And when Alpha Crazy gets disappointed, people tend to lose fingers," I said to myself.
"Dismissed," he said without looking at me.
I ran out of his office as fast as my tired legs could carry me to the omegas room and collapse on the bed.
"I’m going to die," I muttered into the hay-filled pillow of my attic room.
Joan sat at the foot of my bed, holding a weird cup of wolfberry tea. "You’re not going to die."
"He literally said he will fry my intestines and fingers."
Joan handed me the tea. "You’ will go to the human village, get the flour, come back, make the noodles, and live to cook another day." Joan said trying to lighten my mood
I collected the tea with my shaking hand and took a sip. It tasted like warm grass and regret. "What if I get caught by rogues?"
"You said he will send guards with you."
"Yeah, but what if the guards are the type who run away screaming at the first howl of other wolves"
Joan grinned. "Then you better run faster."
I groaned and buried my face in my pillow, "I’m a doctor, I wasn’t built for this werewolf life.
"I miss supermarkets," I mumbled. "And non-murdery people."
The Next Morning I stood at the pack’s outer gate, a small bag slung over my shoulder. Three guards stood in front of me, two looked competent. The third was literally picking his nose. How will he protect me when he’s busy picking his nose? Fantastic.
The psycho Alpha is still in his room and I think I need to get out of here before he comes out, or If he showed up and started growling for noodles again, I might faint.