Chapter 11

I was wrist-deep in sticky dough, cursing softly under my breath as I tried to keep the damn thing from eating my fingers. Drex, naturally, was no help—leaning back against the counter like he owned the place, arms crossed and that stupidly pretty smirk on his face.

"You know," he drawled, "I've seen toddlers knead better than that."

"I'd slap you with this dough if it wouldn't bounce off your dumb face," I shot back, not even glancing up.

"Mm. You always threaten me with food. Is this flirting?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Drex chuckled, and I hated how warm it made the room feel. The kitchen was already hot enough, what with the ovens and my rising temper. And sure, he is easy on the eyes—tall, broad-shouldered, that annoyingly golden hair that curled a little when he sweated. But he also talked too much which is pretty fun but NOT AT THE MOMENT!!!!

I'd taken kitchen duty today to avoid Mara and her latest Alpha Kaelith sex fantasy fanfiction monologue. Goddess bless her, but if I had to hear one more description of his "soul-piercing gaze" or "dominant growl," I'd throw myself into the stew pot.

The dough squished between my fingers like it was judging me, and I grunted, slamming it down harder.

"Easy," Drex murmured, stepping closer. "You're trying to knead it not kill it."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Same thing."

He laughed, then reached over to swipe a pinch of glaze from my bowl. I gasped.

"Drex!"

He licked it off his finger slowly, like a professional chef...that he is "Mmm. Needs more cinnamon."

"You dough thief, you mixed the whole thing, remember?" I lunged at him with a ball of raw dough, and he ducked, grinning.

Before I could properly retaliate, the door creaked open behind us.

Agatha entered with her usual sharp-eyed, no-nonsense, apron spotless, which felt like a personal insult in this flour warzone. She took one look at Drex and me and sighed like we were the reason she needed therapy.

"I should've known," she muttered, brushing invisible lint from her sleeve. "Every time there's a mess in here, I find you two at the center."

Drex gave her a dramatic bow. "We aim to please."

"I aim to throw something at your head," she snapped. Then her gaze flicked toward me. "Elyssa, did you just throw dough?"

"Only a little," I mumbled.

She didn't respond—just let that awful silence stretch long enough to make me feel like a toddler caught with her hand in the honey jar.

It's sort of funny how she used to scare when I first got here but it's been almost a week now and I found out that she's only strict when necessary otherwise she can be very caring and friendly

I think what we get this time is mixed 

As if to prove my point, she folded her arms and dropped the bomb. "Alpha Kaelith is returning tonight."

The air stilled like someone had sucked all the heat out of the ovens. Alpha Kaelith—i haven't seen him since the first day I served him dinner but that doesn't mean he hasn't plagued my mind since that day.

I blinked. "For dinner?"

"No, for hopscotch." Agatha deadpanned. Ah...there's the sarcastic Agatha. "Yes, for dinner of course. Full service. Beta Ryan and his newfound mate will be coming over. And of course with Gamma Demi. Drex—"

"I know," he cut in, already wiping his hands on a towel. "I'll handle the layout. What's h

the occasion?"

She hesitated. "I'm not sure. But prepare for tension—i heard Beta Ryan newfound mate is one of the survivors from moonbeam pack." She directed her gaze to me as if asking me if I know who it is but I shrugged, clueless too.

"Joy," he muttered.

Agatha turned to leave, then stopped in the doorway. "And no more flirting over the food. Or I'll have you both getting the toughest work for a week."

"She started it," Drex said, pointing at me like a child.

I threw a spatula at him.

She left before it landed.

______

The kitchen was warm, loud, and honestly—chaotic.

Drex was fixing the last tray, being all serious and focused like we weren't running out of time, and the other two chefs were still pacing back and forth like the devil himself would rate this meal on presentation.

I stood near the back table, arms folded, apron already smudged. My stomach was tight. Not from hunger.

I didn't like this job. Not this part.

I didn't like standing there, holding a tray while people sat around acting like you don't exist unless you mess something up. It reminded me too much of... yeah. That place.

Moonbeam pack.

I didn't want to think about it but it was already there—Alpha Bastian's voice in my head, loud and sharp. The way he'd snap his fingers for wine, then pour it on the floor and make me lick it up if he felt bored enough. The look on his face when I made one small mistake. The way everyone laughed.

I hated that I remembered it so clearly.

"You're standing like you're about to stab someone," Drex said suddenly.

I turned to glare at him.

He was holding a serving spoon like it was a microphone. "Should I be scared?"

"Yes," I said.

"You're nervous," he said more gently, setting the spoon down and leaning against the prep counter. "Which is fair. But it's nothing really—pftttt, you're just making it hard in your head."

I raised a brow. "Yeah. That's what you'll say ."

He laughed, then leaned a little closer like he was about to whisper state secrets. "Wanna know my trick?"

"Is it illegal?"

"Only if you get caught."

I grinned, and he winked.

Then he picked up one of the cooling buns off the tray and smacked it lightly against my forehead.

"Hey!"

"That was the nervous thought. I smacked it right outta you."

"You...lunatic—" I lunged at him, trying to grab the bun back, and he dodged, laughing as I chased him around the prep table.

We were mid-scuffle, me threatening to turn him into a flour-coated pancake and Drex holding the bun like it was some sort of shield reasure, when the kitchen went silent.

Silent.

The other chefs froze in place—one with a ladle still half in the soup, the other with a tray of wine glasses mid-air. Even Drex, who was running from me stood still, posture stiffening.

And that's when I realized I was the only idiot still moving.

I was still laughing, breathless, cheeks flushed from running—and I had no idea what the hell had happened.

Until I turned.

And met his eyes 

Alpha Kaelith.

Standing just in the doorway, his tall figure clad in back suit with a coat over it.

And his eyes—those grey eyes that plagued my mind and dreams were on me. They were cold...as cold as the weather outside.

My heart dropped straight to the floor.