Chapter 11 – Smoke and Teeth

Elena's POV

The street was quiet—too quiet. Even the wind felt like it was holding its breath as Jules pulled up to the curb just a few blocks from Ember Flame.

"I'll wait right here," she said, not taking her eyes off the dark SUV that had been trailing us for the last ten minutes. "If anything feels off, you scream."

I gave her a nod and stepped out of the car, heart pounding like it was trying to escape my ribs. My palms were clammy. My keys shook slightly as I unlocked the door to my restaurant—the one place that still felt like mine.

The familiar scent of charred thyme and roasted garlic wrapped around me like a long-lost hug. Everything was still the same. The prep tables were clean. The copper pans hung neatly above the stove. It looked untouched, as though the last few weeks of chaos hadn't happened.

I moved slowly to my office, pulled open the drawer, and retrieved the envelope I'd tucked away in fear and confusion.

The Culinary Council.

My name, printed in elegant script. The seal of the Alpha Dominion. My dream wrapped in fine parchment.

I peeled it open, hands trembling. My eyes scanned the first few lines, and my knees nearly buckled.

> Congratulations, Chef Elena Hart…

You have been selected for the Royal Apprenticeship…

A sob escaped me before I could catch it.

I should've been happy. This was everything I had worked for, prayed for. But now—pregnant, rejected, hunted—I didn't know who I was anymore.

Before I could let the tears fall freely, I heard it.

A thud. Followed by the sound of shattering glass.

My heart seized.

I turned sharply toward the dining room and froze when I saw them—three figures, masked, dressed in black, slipping through the broken window like shadows. My breath caught. I ducked behind the prep counter, trying not to make a sound.

Their scent hit me—feral, sharp, tinged with silver.

Rogues.

"Make it quick," one of them growled. "Alpha said she shouldn't suffer."

Alpha?

My stomach twisted. Damien?

The first rogue crept toward the kitchen, dragging something metal along the wall. I crouched lower, fingers wrapping around the handle of my chef's knife. I didn't know how to fight like a warrior. But I'd fight like a woman who had nothing left to lose.

As he stepped closer, I lunged.

The blade sank into his thigh and he howled, stumbling back into a tray of pans. Another one grabbed me from behind, slamming me into the prep table. My head spun.

I screamed. I bit. I kicked.

But there were too many of them.

My back hit the floor, and I felt a warm trickle slide down my temple. The edges of my vision blurred, and I tasted copper on my tongue.

And then—

A roar. A growl that shook the walls.

A massive black wolf barreled through the shattered window, fangs gleaming under the overhead lights. He hit the rogue standing above me with brutal force, sending him crashing through the display shelf.

Another wolf followed—smaller, tan, quick and ruthless.

I watched through blurred eyes as the rogues were taken down, one by one. My vision wavered, my body trembling from adrenaline and pain. The black wolf shifted mid-motion, rising into a tall, broad man with sharp eyes and a commanding aura.

He looked down at me, and his voice was low but certain.

"Elena Hart?"

I blinked. "Yes…"

He crouched, his eyes scanning my wounds, but not touching me.

"I'm Alpha Maddox of the Eastern Wilds," he said. "We've been tracking rogue activity in your territory. But this—this was no random attack."

I stared at him, unsure if I was dreaming.

"You're not safe here," he said. "And from what I've seen… no one's coming to save you."

Behind him, Jules came rushing in, her eyes wide with horror.

"Elena! Oh Moon, are you okay?" She dropped beside me, helping me sit up.

"I'm fine," I whispered. "Just shaken."

Maddox stood. His gaze never left mine.

"You need protection," he said. "Come with us. You and your child will be safe in my pack. No one will touch you there."

I looked at Jules. She gave a small nod, wiping at the blood on my face.

And then I looked back at the restaurant—my home, my dream, now shattered like the glass on the floor.

"I'll come," I whispered. "But not because I'm afraid."

Maddox arched a brow.

I straightened my back despite the pain.

"I'm not running," I said. "I'm rebuilding."

And this time, no one would take anything from me again.