Falling For The Demon Wolf Chapter 18: The Alpha’s orders

The hall was empty, and I had two options.

Run.

Go back to your room, and pray that the big bad wolf doesn’t find .

The latter seed more comfortable, but I never really liked comfort.

Instead, I scanned the room, looking for a possible escape route without being noticed.

A small wooden door, was fairly hiding behind the curtain.

I took one step,

Another.

And another. And soon I was bolting down the hall.

If I manage to escape, I’ll hid in the woods, make a plan then co back for his head.

If and only if I escaped now.

Well that thought was far fetched, as my hand grabbed the knob and twisted, the sun was so bright that it blinded for almost a minute. And when my eyes cleared two guards stood in front of with unreadable faces.

"I.....um....i just needed so air." I stamred.

Without responded, the both grabbed my hand yanking back inside.

"You are not allowed to move freely, human" one of the guards spat.

"I wasn’t going to escape." I lied, twisting in their arms.

"Lies! You humans forget that we are better at everything than you."

Of course the are, their great sense of hearing would probably tell them how fast my heart was racing right now.

I didn’t argue.

Mintues later, the shoved back into my room, like a pile of dirty laundry.

More like prison.

I laughdd at tge irony of trying to escapes my ho i once thought was a prison, and being out in an actuall prison.

Then anotger knoce ca, almost imdiately.

Not a soft, hesitant one. A firm, deliberate sound that told whoever was on the other side had no patience for waiting.

I barely had ti to sit up before the door swung open, and Isla stepped in, her sharp golden eyes assessing with thinly veiled irritation.

"Get up," she said. "You have work to do."

I blinked at her. "Excuse ?"

She crossed her arms. "You heard ."

I frowned, my mind still sluggish from sleep. I wasn’t used to sleeping in an actual bed after weeks of travel, and it had left feeling both restless and strangely heavy.

"What work?" I asked, even though I already had a sinking feeling in my gut.

Isla’s lips curled into sothing that wasn’t quite a smirk, but close enough to make my irritation flare. "You’ve been assigned to the kitchens. You’ll be serving als to the Alpha."

I tensed.

Of course.

The bastard couldn’t just keep locked up—no, he had to parade around like a servant, a reminder of my place.

I forced my expression into sothing neutral. "And you’re here because...?"

"I’m to watch you," she said simply, shrugging. "Make sure you don’t do anything stupid."

My jaw tightened.

So I was a prisoner, a servant, and now I had a personal babysitter?

"Get dressed," Isla added, her tone clipped. "We leave in five minutes."

I could tell there was no room for argunt. Not yet, at least.

With a slow breath, I slid out of bed and dressed in the simple tunic and trousers left for the night before. The fabric was plain but comfortable—functional. A stark contrast to the dress I’d been forced to wear when facing Zain.

I caught Isla watching from the corner of her eye, her expression unreadable.

"What?" I muttered.

She shook her head. "Nothing. Just wondering how long you’ll last."

I huffed. "Good to know you have so much faith in ."

Isla only smirked before turning toward the door. "Let’s go."

The kitchen was alive with movent the mont we stepped in.

Steam rose from bubbling pots, the scent of sizzling at and fresh bread filling the air. A handful of people—wolves, I reminded myself—moved with sharp precision, chopping, stirring, preparing. The space was warm, inviting even, but I knew better.

This wasn’t kindness.

This was a test.

I was nothing but a human, a prisoner in their den, and now I was being put to work like I belonged.

The mont we entered, the room quieted. Not fully, but enough for to feel the weight of their stares.

A man turned toward us, his broad shoulders and steady gaze marking him as soone of importance. He was older than everyone there in that room, maybe in his early thirties, with dark brown hair cropped short and sharp blue eyes that flicked over once before settling on Isla.

"This is her?" he asked, his voice even.

Isla nodded. "Zain’s orders. Gerald, play nice."

My stomach twisted.

The man—Gerald, had a wicked slash of what looked like claw marks on his face, and from the way the other wolves moved around him, it was clear he held so authority.

—studied for a mont longer. There was no malice in his gaze, no outright hostility, but there was no warmth either.

"You are late." He said, turning slightly to Isla

"Bla the guards," Isla said with a bored shrug. "They caught her trying to run."

Gerald’s gaze snapped to . "Is that so?"

I lifted my chin. "I just needed air."

His lips twitched, not quite a smirk but close. "Sure you did."

He didn’t believe . None of them ever would.

Well it not like I was telling the truth, or it really mattered.

"Doesn’t matter," Gerald went on, motioning toward the counters. "You’re here now, and you have work to do. You’ll be serving the Alpha’s als—breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

No mistakes. No delays. Do yo understand?"

My jaw tightened.

A constant reminder of my place, forcing to serve him like I was nothing more than a common handmaid.

"Understood," I muttered.

Gerald raised a brow, as if surprised I didn’t argue, then motioned toward a tray stacked with plates.

"Do you know how to work in a kitchen?" he asked.

I lifted my chin. "I can figure it out."

Sothing like amusent flickered across his face before it vanished. "In here, you respect everyone, even the youngest cub is better than you. You don’t speak unless spoken to. You don’t make mistakes."

I bristled at his tone. "And if I do?"

His gaze darkened slightly. "Don’t."

Right. Noted.

He turned, nodding toward one of the other kitchen workers, a woman with graying hair and a face lined with experience. "Lena, she’s yours."

Lena looked over, then sighed. "Co on, girl. Let’s see if you’re useless or not."

I gritted my teeth but followed her, ignoring the way Isla stayed close behind.

As if I could run.

As if there was anywhere to go.

"Take those and start setting the table in the dining hall. And don’t drop anything." The woman said to .

I bit back a retort and stepped forward, carefully lifting the tray. It was heavier than it looked, but I refused to show any struggle.

As I turned toward the door leading to the dining hall, I caught Isla watching with sothing almost amused in her gaze.

I was trapped here, a prisoner in silk one mont, a servant the next.

And soon, I’d be standing before Zain again, placing a al in front of the man I was ant to kill.

A cruel, twisted ga.

But if they thought they were breaking , they were wrong.

Because every mont I spent in this place, every glance, every order, every second of their control—

I was just biding my ti.

Balancing the tray in my hands, I stepped into the dining hall. The room was just as massive as I rembered from the night before—vaulted ceilings, thick wooden beams, and a long, dark table stretching almost the entire length of the space. Golden light filtered in through the high windows, making the polished stone floors gleam.

The place was empty.

Good.

I didn’t want to face him again, after what happens earlier.

I moved quickly, setting down the plates, placing utensils, and making sure everything looked as perfect as they probably expected.

I hated this.

Every second I spent in this room, touching these plates, preparing his als, felt like another chain being wrapped around my neck.

But I was patient.

A sudden presence filled the room, thick and suffocating, like a shift in the air before a storm.

I knew it was him before I even turned.

The Alpha.

Zain.

It was as if his na, and presence haunted every turn I make.

I straightened, forcing my fingers to still as I placed the last fork on the table. I willed myself not to turn around, to ignore the way his presence sent a cold shiver down my spine.

But then he moved—slow, deliberate steps echoing against the stone floors.

"You’re quiet now, cat got to tongue?" ca his deep, smooth voice.

I clenched my jaw.

"I have nothing to say," I replied, keeping my gaze on the table.

A chair scraped against the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sit at the head of the table, his posture lazy yet commanding. A king on his throne.

"You should eat," he said. "You look... fragile."

I bristled at the word.

"I’m fine."

His silence stretched between us, heavy and unreadable.

Then, without warning, he moved. One second he was sitting, the next he was standing beside , so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

I swallowed hard, but I didn’t step back.

His scent—dark cedar and sothing sharp like frost—wrapped around , making my pulse stutter against my will.

"You’re still lying," he murmured, voice lower now. "I can hear it in your heartbeat."

I stiffened.

Of course, he could.

Damn wolves.

I forced my expression into sothing calm, indifferent. I turned my head slightly, eting his gaze for the first ti that morning. His golden eyes studied with an unreadable intensity, as if searching for sothing—sothing I refused to give him.

"If you’re done inspecting , Alpha, I have work to do." My voice was steady. Cold.

His jaw tensed slightly, just for a flicker of a mont, before his lips curved—not quite a smirk, not quite a scowl.

"Fine," he murmured. "Then do your job."

And with that, he turned and sat back down.

I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, grabbed the empty tray, and turned to leave—ignoring the way my heart still pounded in my chest.