Love Punishable By Death

"So, what's your name?"

"Huh?" Syri looked up from the dough he was kneading to see a girl standing beside him. "What's your name?" The girl placed her elbows on the table and set her chin in her palms as she repeated the question. "Oh, my name is Syri," the zeta answered. "Cool, I'm Aliza," the girl returned with a smile. The zeta gave the girl a small nod in greeting before returning his attention to the task at hand.

"So, why are you here?" The girl continued, causing Syri to look back up at her. "Sorry?" The zeta responded with a furrow of his brows. "Why are you here?" The girl repeated. "I've never seen you in the kitchen before."

"Ah," Syri sounded when he realized the intention behind the female's question. "I was brought here because they needed more workers; I work in the stables."

"Hmm," the girl sounded, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes. "Strange...we didn't need more workers; the hall did."

"Aliza," A strong, feminine voice sounded from behind the zeta. "Leave the boy alone. He is a hard worker, and we could use all the help we could get. You should be working, too, little miss." Syri turned his head to see the head chef berating the girl affectionately.

"Ae, Chef," Aliza responded with a slow bow of her head before leaving the zeta to knead his lump of dough. Syri returned to his task as the girl resumed her duty of stirring a cream sauce. The zeta was deeply focused on his task of kneading the dough to the perfect consistency that he was able to drown out most of the gossip that was flying back and forth from the cooks, but one sentence in particular caught his attention. Syri slowed his kneading at the words, "Did you hear the prince is going to pick a mate?!"

Gasps radiated through the kitchen as all ears tuned into the newest piece of gossip. "Apparently the convention is not only for treaties and such. The prince is supposed to pick a mate from the eligible royals!" Squeals sounded from the various ranking chefs at the girl's words while Syri's heart pinged with a deeply-rooted ache.

"Oh, to be a princess!" A second chef sounded before shaking her head and returning to dicing a bunch of vegetables.

"The royals are so lucky. They can still get a mate even after losing their fated one," another chef said, stirring a round of moans in agreement. Syri furrowed his brows at the third chef's words. The zeta wanted to inquire what the chef had meant, but he was saved from talking when Aliza spoke up, "What do you mean, Hevah?"

"You know what I mean, Aliza. Us commoners aren't allowed to mate anyone who is not our fated. It's punishable by death," Heva explained. The beta added the last sentence to emphasize the severity of the consequences should a werewolf be caught mating another who is not their fated one.

Syri's heart raced at Heva's words. 'Then, Kip and Lili...'

"But it is not uncommon for two werewolves who are not mates to fall in love," Heva continued. "This is especially easy if one or both of them have not met their fated one. Most werewolves wait for their fated mate, but who can really predict what one's heart will do?" The beta paused to taste the soup she was stirring before continuing, "There are some cases where the two never meet their fated one and end up mating. If they get caught, the consequences are severe, but if they don't, they can live together in happiness for the rest of their lives. It is rare, though, and is a huge gamble. But, some are willing to risk it if it means being with the one they love."

Syri hung his head when he heard the beta's explanation, and the zeta sent up a silent prayer that Kip and Lili would be able to remain safe and happy.

"Oh, Heva, don't ruin the mood!" A chef toward the front of the kitchen stated. "Let's make bets on who the prince is going to choose to be his mate!" With the chef's suggestion of a bet, the kitchen exploded into laughter and giggles as the cooks engaged in numerous conversations discussing all the possibilities of who the prince would mate.

A lump formed in the zeta's throat as he returned to the lump of dough before him. Syri knew he had no right to feel hurt upon hearing the names of the numerous princes and princesses that were striving for the prince's heart, but the zeta could not stop the ache in his heart nonetheless. The zeta berated himself for allowing his heart to ache at the bets being placed on who had the best chance of gaining the prince's affection.

'What are you doing, Syri? There is no way you can be with the prince. You have to get him out of your head. You have to continue on. There's...there's no...there's no way you can be with him.'