Crimsonborn

Chapter 5 -The Potato Emergency

‘You’re mad,’ Lyra said.

I growled in response, startling a pair of girls carrying a massive basket of clean linens between them. The pile tilted dangerously, and they yelped, but I was already grabbing the sheets before they could spill to the floor. Murmuring a quick apology, I placed them back on top and stormed down the corridor, leaving them staring after me in confusion.

‘Of course I’m mad!’ I snapped. ‘Don’t I have a reason to be mad?’

‘Oh, plenty,’ Lyra agreed. ‘I just can’t decide if you’re mad about forgetting the meeting, getting caught, being forced into marriage, or because your mother sent you to your room like the child you are.’

I dug my heels into the floor, biting back another snarl as I spotted two young boys heading toward the kitchens, each struggling under the weight of a heavy sack of grain. The preparations for the feast were already in full swing, and there were only a few hours left before my father had to make his decision—before my fate was decided.

‘Don’t call me a child. None of this is my fault!’ I snapped, only to realize too late that I had just proved her point. Lyra, thankfully, didn’t point that out.

“I need a hand here! Rika! Where did that wretched girl disappear to again?” a voice bellowed from the kitchen, where the boys had vanished.

I sighed. ‘I just… I don’t want to sit around and do nothing while other people decide my future for me. I know I’m not the Alpha or Beta—yet!—but the least they can do is include me when it comes to my own damn life!’

‘Then don’t,’ Lyra said simply.

I frowned. ‘Don’t what?’

‘Sit around and do nothing,’ she clarified, her mood shifting. ‘We’re hungry. Go find us something to eat.’

I rolled my eyes but turned on my heel, heading toward the kitchen just as the cook started shouting something about eggs and needing more hands. I had barely stepped inside when I stopped in my tracks.

The place was pure chaos. Every available surface was occupied—people peeling, chopping, mashing, kneading—while Benara, the cook, waddled around with a wooden spoon in hand, waving it like a sword as she barked orders and critiques in equal measure. Young girls and boys darted in and out of the other doorway, balancing stacks of wooden cups, polished silver goblets, gleaming bronze plates, and enormous platters big enough to hold a whole pig. All for that insufferable…

“Ah, hands! Good!” Benara shouted, waving me over with her wooden spoon. “Come, Freya. You’re good with knives, right?”

“Yes,” I said warily, glancing around the bustling kitchen. “But you banned me from helping in the kitchen after what happened the last time.”

Benara winced. “Well, that was when I had options. Today, I’ll take anyone I can get—even you. Peel those potatoes.”

She gestured toward a wooden crate at the feet of a woman surrounded by a mound of brown peels and half as many bleeding cuts on her fingers. Before I could argue, Benara was already stomping away, yelling at someone that if they burned the meat, she’d roast them instead.

‘So much for finding food,’ I sighed, making my way to the empty stool beside the crate. I picked up the knife left on the seat, testing the edge. It was sharp enough, but the weight was all wrong—if I threw it, it wouldn’t land anywhere near the target.

‘You’re not supposed to throw it,’ Lyra scoffed.

‘Thanks for pointing out the obvious. Do you want to do it instead?’ I shot back.

Her disgruntled snort was the only reply I got.

“Thanks for helping,” the woman beside me said with a friendly smile. I tried to recall her name but came up empty. She had to be new—I knew everybody who worked in the Packhouse and all the warriors in the village. “I’m, Misie, by the way. My sister recently mated into your pack, so I came along. And you are?”

“Freya. Welcome to the pack.” I returned her smile and grabbed a potato.

I pressed the knife to the skin, but misjudged my strength and nearly cut it in half. Misie gave me a strange look, but then cleared her throat and went back to her own work. By the time I finished my first one, she had already peeled two and was working on a third. I was about to start my second when she caught my hand.

“Try not to press so hard—just skim the skin, not the flesh. There’s barely anything left of this one,” she said, eyeing my pitifully small potato before glancing at her own, twice the size and now steadily turning the water pink. “You don’t usually work in the kitchen, do you?” she chuckled.

“No,” I scoffed, eyeing her hands in turn. “And neither do you, it seems.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Well, I was a personal maid to Lady Dahlia in the Greenhorn Pack, but when we came here, I was told they don’t need one.” She focused on her potato, carefully shaving off the skin. “Apparently, neither the Luna nor her daughters keep personal servants. Everyone just works where they’re needed. And I was needed in the kitchen.”

She smiled as she spoke, and as much as I searched for bitterness in her tone, I found none.

“So you just did what you were told? Even if it’s not what you wanted?” I raised an eyebrow.

She hesitated, chewing on her lip. “Would you do something you didn’t want to if it meant helping your family?”

I bit my tongue, hoping Lyra wouldn’t chime in with something snarky, and nodded.

“When we were still in the Greenhorn Pack, I had to take whatever work I could find, but I never had any real skills. My sister is the last family I have, and she is a warrior. I’m not, I can barely hold my wolf form even on a full moon.” Her cheeks flushed red as she kept her eyes on her hands. “Lady Dahlia took pity on me—or at least, that’s what I thought at the time—and made me one of her maids.” Misie’s voice was respectful, yet laced with something colder, something sad. “The job helped us make ends meet, but… let’s just say I’m glad I’m no longer in her service. There’s something about an Alpha’s daughter… they think they’re better than anyone and the pack exists to serve them, not the other way around.”

‘Ouch,’ I thought, and Lyra grumbled in agreement—with me or her, I wasn’t sure—but the comment still stung. ‘I’m not like that, am I?’

Before Lyra could answer, Misie continued. “My father used to say that it’s the duty of the strong to protect the weak, so that’s why we choose the strongest among us to lead. Our service is our gratitude. But when an Alpha, and their family in extension, stops fulfilling their duty, well… they don’t deserve that gratitude.”

She continued to stare at her hands while a small, wistful smile touched her lips. When she realized she had stopped peeling, she gave me an embarrassed glance before quickly adding, “Don’t get me wrong. If the Luna or her daughters asked me to tend to their hair or draw their baths, I’d be out of this kitchen faster than a squirrel with a stolen nut!” She laughed, light and genuine. “But if they don’t, I’ll be fine. I’ve only been here a few weeks, and I can already tell this is a good, caring pack. A few cuts are a small price to pay for being part of it, don’t you think?”

She dropped another peeled potato into the water and grabbed a new one. “Besides, peeling potatoes isn’t so bad once you get used to it. I’d rather be here than in the Mess Hall when the food is served. What if I trip and pour wine over the king? I heard he’s a beast! He fought and defeated all of the other Pack Alphas to get his crown. Just imagine what he’d do to someone who humiliated him like that…”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” I grimaced. His face flashed through my mind—that infuriating smirk and sharp eyes that made my skin crawl. I barely noticed the way my grip tightened until my knife sank too deep, splitting the potato in half and sending both pieces tumbling to the floor.

Misie gave me a look full of pity.

“Freya! I said peel them, not chop them to pieces!” Benara’s voice boomed from right behind me, making me jump so hard I nearly toppled off my stool. When had she gotten so close? Goddess take me, I didn’t even hear her!

“Sorry, I got distracted…” I muttered as heat crawled up my neck.

Benara’s glare said she was two seconds from smacking me with her spoon—especially when she spotted my pathetic pile of barely peeled potatoes—when the kitchen door creaked open and Felix poked his head in. Surprise flickered across his face, followed by amusement.

“I thought you were banned from the kitchen?” my brother grinned.

“Potato emergency,” I deadpanned, lifting my sad excuse for a half-peeled vegetable.

His laughter echoed through the room, and for a brief moment, it felt like old times—like nothing had changed, like we were still just two siblings fooling around, waiting for the day we’d lead our people together. But then his smile faltered, and he turned to Benara.

“Sorry, but my father needs Freya. Can you spare her?”

The cook snorted. “Boy, don’t start with me. There’s no hope for that one.”

‘Rude,’ Lyra muttered, though she sounded more amused than offended.

I stuck my tongue out at Benara’s back, making Felix fight another laugh—until she turned so fast I barely dodged the swipe of her spoon. Scrambling out of my seat, I hurried to the door, grabbing two apples from a barrel by the wall on my way. At the threshold, I glanced back at Misie, who stared at us with wide eyes and an open mouth. With a small wave, I let Felix tug me out of the kitchen.

He slung an arm around my shoulders and promptly stole one of my apples.

‘When I asked for food, I meant meat,’ Lyra grumbled.

‘Didn’t feel like being roasted alive on top of everything else today, sorry,’ I shot back while I finished my apple in four bites.

Felix had already devoured his, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he guided us down the hall—the opposite way of our father’s private quarters. I peered at him, trying to read his mood, but he had that practiced ‘mask of serenity’ he insisted every Alpha ought to master.

“I thought you said Father was asking for me.” I arched an eyebrow.

Felix gave me a look like I was the densest person alive and I shoved him, sending him stumbling dangerously close to one of the arched windows overlooking the orchards on the west side of the Packhouse. He caught himself, rubbing his shoulder with a dramatically pained expression before flashing me a grin.

“I’m sure he’ll call for us when he’s ready. But knowing you, if you don’t get rid of some of that frustration, it won’t matter whether he agrees to this sham marriage or not—you might kill the king if he so much as touches you again.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. “Or I might.”

I shot him a curious glance as we reached the west gate leading out of the Packhouse, when he stopped so abruptly, I nearly walked into his back. Stepping into my space, he cupped my face and pressed our foreheads together, his golden eyes locking onto mine with fierce determination.

“No matter what Father decides, just say the word, and I’ll kill the king,” he whispered, his voice so low I doubted even people passing right by us would have heard him. “I won’t let him take you. You’re my twin, my other half. This is our pack—our home. Your place is here.”

A sharp sting burned at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let it turn into tears. Instead, I smiled softly and cupped his cheek.

“Family comes first,” I murmured the words our father had drilled into us before I could even understand them.

Felix’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded before taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm.

“Family comes first,” he echoed.

He took a step back, his usual smirk returning as he ran a hand through the few loose strands of black hair falling in front of his eyes. With a gentle tug, he pulled me outside, striding toward the line of trees with a spring in his step.

I smelled them before I saw them, so by the time Mohan and Rika came into view, I was already smiling. With tears in her eyes, my friend threw her arms around me, crushing me into a hug until there was no air left in my lungs.

“Ugh—oomph!” I stumbled backward, slamming into Felix’s side.

“I’m so sorry!” Rika whispered, her willowy arms tightening around my neck. “If I’d known what was going to happen, I wouldn’t have let you leave the room! I don’t care if he’s a king, he can’t do this!”

I shot Felix an accusing look, but he shrugged innocently. We both turned to Mohan, who was casually slipping his hands into his pockets, looking as guilty as a cat caught with milk on its whiskers.

“I have a buddy who was on duty in the Mess Hall,” he said with a shrug. “And this is you we’re talking about.” His usual amusement faded into something grim, his features settling into something more akin to the beast lurking beneath his skin. “The moment I heard, I found these two because I knew we’d all be on the same side. We’re not letting him take you, Freya. Even if you are as annoying as a persistent fly—”

I glared at him over Rika’s shoulder, but there was no real heat behind it. The truth was, if I didn’t cling to my anger, I might actually cry at how far they were willing to go for me. We weren’t talking about just defying our Alpha, but the damned king of all packs as well. There were no words to describe the gratitude I felt for my best friends… and the sinking sensation growing in my stomach that one day, they might be in danger if I didn’t give them up.

‘You will not cry,’ Lyra murmured.

‘Don’t ruin the moment,’ I grumbled back, releasing Rika and stepping toward Mohan.

He opened his arms like he was expecting a hug so he wasn’t fast enough when I ducked under them and drove my fist straight into his gut.

“That was for cheating,” I said as he doubled over with a wheeze of laughter. Before he could recover, I hooked my foot behind his knee and swept his legs out from under him. A cloud of dust kicked up as he hit the ground, huffing and chuckling in one breath. “And that was for getting me into trouble with that royal asshole and then leaving me there.”

Mohan groaned dramatically, baring his neck in mock surrender. I scowled down at him for a second longer before offering my hand. His grin returned as he grabbed it, letting me haul him back to his feet.

“How is that my fault?” he said, still laughing. “Did you kill the man you toppled off the horse? Because I swear, I could hear you rolling and rolling—” I swung at him again, but this time, he dodged. “I figured you’d get down faster than me, so I—”

“That man was the king, you i***t,” I snarled.

Mohan blinked. Once. Twice. Realization dawned in his eyes.

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh, s**t indeed.”