chapter 2
1052 Words
Alison's POV
The ballroom shimmered with elegance, all polished marble and crystal chandeliers.
Music danced in the air like golden mists, and laughter rang out like bells as pack members, nobles, and Alphas from distant lands dined beneath the velvet night.
I watched from behind the pillars.
From the shadows.
That's where I belonged, after all.
I'm Alison, the kitchen girl who had brushed rosemary from her sleeves three times tonight, just in case.
I'm the girl who tasted every sauce twice served tonight, measured every food tray with trembling precision. Because he asked for power, precision, and minimalism.
And I gave him perfection.
I stood at the edge of the hall, my apron replaced by a borrowed black dress, simple and modest and looked nothing like Tamara’s silver silk gown that shimmered like moonlight. She was seated beside Alpha Ryder, her hand wrapped tightly around his arm.
And he… He was everything a girl like me could never touch. Was nothing a girl like me could ever have. And it hurts.
It hurts that I have to watch what's mine being paraded as another's. But still, I watched.
I just couldn't help it.
Watching Ryder with Tamara was like watching fire from behind a glass. It was beautiful, dangerous, and untouchable. My wolf whined low, pacing inside me, as if proximity alone could heal the emptiness between us. But it couldn't.
Then came the clinking of silverware, the satisfied hums of approval.
They liked the food.
For a moment, a brief, golden flicker of a second, I allowed myself to feel proud. Not seen, not chosen, but proud. I had done this. I had made something worthy of an Alpha's table. Something he noticed, even if he didn't know why.
I basked in this little victory I'd snatched up for myself, and all of a sudden, it got washed away by a bone-chilling scream.
A woman in red collapsed first, clutching her stomach. Her mate caught her as she fell, but then his arms began to tremble, too. All around the room, all around me, plates clattered to the floor. Men staggered. Women fell. Skins blistered, and boils—disgusting boils—grew on their bodies like burning curses. And the scent—gods, the scent—of panic, blood, and rotting flesh filled the room.
I froze.
Every muscle in my body locked in place as the nightmare unfolded before me.
Someone called for the healers. Another shouted for the guards. And Ryder—he stood, unsteady. His eyes flickered from one fallen guest to another until he gripped the table so hard he had to steady himself.
He was breathing hard, and his pupils were dilating.
No. No. No. No.
Not him too.
Was he affected?
Not even he was spared.
Not even my mate.
“This can't be…” I whispered, but the words got caught in my throat.
“How did this happen?” someone yelled.
“It's poison! Poison from the food!”
My blood froze.
No. No. They have it all wrong.
I unconsciously took a step back and then, someone pointed.
“There!” the person screamed. “It’s the cook!”
Heads turned and dozens of eyes bore into me. Their suspicion turned to rage in a single breath.
“It's the cook!”
“Alison did this!”
“She's the only one who handled every dish!”
“She did this!”
“She poisoned everyone!”
“No,” I choked out. “No, I didn't—I would never—”
Before I could blink, the guards surged forward.
I stumbled back, panic slicing through me. My voice broke as I tried to explain, to scream, to plead. “I tasted everything! I swear! I would never hurt the Pack! I would never hurt him!”
But none of them heard me.
None of them cared to.
Ryder looked at me then—truly looked—and for a second, I thought I saw something flicker behind his storm-gray eyes.
What was it?
Doubt?
Recognition?
Pain?
But it didn't matter.
Because the order was given.
“Take her!”
The guards dragged me through the hall of crumpled bodies and shattered silver plates. My dress ripped at the seams and my knees scraped against the stone as I fell once, then twice. I didn't even cry. I couldn't even scream.
Because what was the point?
I lived in a world that had never seen me. I had finally been noticed.
But not as a mate.
Or even a miracle.
They noticed me as a freaking curse.
It was so cold.
The prison was cold. Damp too.
A single flickering torch lit the corridor outside my cell. Chains were unnecessary. I had nowhere to run and no one to run to.
I curled into myself on the stone bench, the scent of herbs and ash still clinging to my skin. My wolf whimpered, and so did I—softly, wounded, and silent. She didn't understand why we were in prison with no trial, and neither did I.
How do you poison a man you were born to love?
How do you become the villain in your own prophecy?
And why—why did fate give me a mate who couldn't even feel me?
I buried my face in my hands and let the silence press into my bones.
I was alone.
Again.
Except this time, they thought I was a monster.
And the only person who could save me…
Didn't even know I was his.
The only sound I could hear now was the slow, deliberate drip of water leaking from the ceiling. The only sound that echoed in my head was the sound of my heart breaking in two.
It echoed like a ticking clock, as if time itself had turned against me.
I used to dream of the moment Ryder would look at me—really look—and something would click.
Some thread of fate would pull taut and bring us together.
But tonight, he looked.
And he let them take me.
Maybe, that's what hurt the most.
Not the betrayal, but the fact that he didn't even fight for me.
Not even a little.
But hey, it wasn't his fault.
He doesn't know I'm his mate.
- Writer
