TO SATE AN ALPHA'S FURY

Alaric's POV

The walk from the palace prison to my chambers was the longest of my life.

The air felt stagnant. Thick with the smell of blood I knew belonged to her. Each footfall echoed like a funeral bell.

I moved in silence. A ghost haunting my own palace. My mind was a storm of violence. I wanted to turn back. I wanted to tear the iron gates with my bare hands. I wanted to carry her into the sunlight.

But her voice. That faint whisper held me back. She had asked me to do nothing. She had begged me for peace. But all I felt was a craving for war.

I pushed open the door to my chamber. I stepped inside. The room was cold. The fireplace had long since burned out. I did not call for the servants to relight it. I deserved the cold.

My eyes immediately fell upon my bedside table.

There was sitting in a silver vase. The flower Sophie had given me. I had placed it in fresh water. I had hoped to see it bloom. As a symbol of our burgeoning connection.

It was beautiful. Its petals were vibrant. a splash of color against the grey stone of my life. But the sight of it was like a blade in my chest.

How could I appreciate the beauty of a gift when the woman who gave it to me was sitting on a cold floor? How could I nurture this life when I was letting hers wither in the dark?

I sat heavily at my desk. I reached for the Ledger. The book that had become the bridge between our worlds. I flipped through the pages. I looked at the sketches of the meals she had prepared.

The golden poultry. The vibrant herbs. The delicate Macarons. I tried to summon the happy moments. I tried to remember the heat of the kitchen. The way she smiled when I liked her spices. But the memories were hollow. They were poisoned by the image of her bruised face and her split lip.

The pain was a physical weight. It sat on my lungs. It made every breath a struggle. I did not go to bed. I did not undress. I sat in the chair. I stared at the flower. I watched the moonlight move across the floor. Until it was replaced by the mocking grey of dawn.

I was awake until morning. My heart ached. Like a rhythm that felt like a countdown to disaster.

A knock came at the door. It was rhythmic and disciplined. Roland.

"Your Majesty." He called out.

"The elders have gathered for the morning assembly. They are waiting for you in the Grand Hall to discuss the trade routes and the tax levies."

I did not move from my chair. I did not even look at the door.

"Tell them to return to their houses." I said.

My voice sounding like gravel.

"The Alpha is not interested in seeing anyone today. Or tomorrow. Tell them the King is occupied."

"Sire they have traveled from the border provinces..."

"I do not care if they traveled from the moon!" I roared.

The sound vibrating in my chest.

"Get them out of my sight!"

I heard Roland's heavy footsteps retreat.

I felt no satisfaction in my command. I only felt a churning emptiness.

An hour later. The door creaked open. It was Elspeth. The oldest chef. She carried a silver tray. It was ladened with bread. Honey. And smoked meat.

The aroma of the food hit me. For a split second my stomach cramped with hunger. But then I remembered the prison. I remembered the moldy crusts they served to the inmates.

"Your Majesty." Elspeth said softly.

She set the tray on the side table.

"Your morning meal is ready. You must eat to keep your strength."

I looked at the steam rising from the bread.

"I am not interested in eating Elspeth. Take it away."

"But Sire you did not eat last night..."

"Take it away." I repeated.

My eyes fixed on the flower.

She sighed and retreated. The tray clinking as she left.

Then came Cassian. He did not knock. He entered with the familiarity of a best friend. His face etched with worry.

He walked over to the window. He pulled back the curtains. Letting the harsh morning light flood the room. I winced. I shielded my eyes.

"Alaric you look like a man who has been buried alive." Cassian said.

He sits on the edge of my bed.

"The palace is in an uproar. Isolde is whispering in the ears of the council. You are up here brooding. We need to plan. We need to find out what really happened to Daemon."

"I told you I am not interested in seeing anyone." I said.

My voice flat.

"I want to be left alone Cassian. Even by you."

"I'm not leaving you to rot in this room while that girl sits in a cell." Cassian argued.

"She told me to wait." I whispered.

I final looked at him.

"She told me the truth would come out. If I move now. I prove Isolde right. I become the tyrant who breaks the law for a woman. I am honoring her request. But it is killing me."

"Starving yourself won't help her." He said.

"Leave." I commanded.

Cassian looked at me for a long time. He saw the iron resolve in my eyes. The kind of resolve that usually won wars. He nodded slowly. He walked out. He closed the door behind him.

The hours bled into one another. I lost track of time. I sat in the silence. Listening to the heartbeat of the palace. I heard the distant shouting of guards. The clatter of wagons. And the whispers in the hall.

But all I wanted was to hear her voice.

Then the door opened again. This time it wasn't a servant or a friend.

It was Lady Elara. She walked in with her chin held high. She wore a dress that made her look like a jewel.

She had a practiced smile on her face. The kind she used when she wanted to play the role of the devoted consort. She clearly thought that with Sophie in prison, her position had been restored by default.

"Alaric." She said.

Her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

She walked toward me. She reached out a hand to touch my shoulder.

"I heard of the terrible news. I am here to comfort you. We all know that common girl was trouble from the start. You must let her go. You must focus on those who truly love you."

I felt a surge of revulsion. It was so strong it made my skin crawl. I stood up. I loomed over her. I did not touch her. But the force of my presence made her stumble back.

"Comfort?" I asked.

My voice a dangerous snarl.

"You think I want comfort from you? You are a chameleon Elara. You change your colors to match whatever power is in the room. You have no loyalty. No heart. And no honor."

"I have been by your side for years!" She cried.

Her face twisting in anger.

"You have been by the throne's side." I corrected her.

"I would rather die of pain than receive a single word of comfort from you. Get out. Before I forget that I am supposed to be a civilized King."

She turned and fled. I watched her go. I felt nothing but hard clarity.

I sent the elders away again the next day. I rejected my morning meal. I rejected my afternoon meal. I rejected my evening meal.

For three days I touched nothing but water. My ribs began to show beneath my skin. My eyes grew sunken and dark. My wolf was restless. It howled in the back of my mind. It demanded meat. It demanded blood. It demanded Sophie.

I told myself that I would not attend to a single palace duty. I would not sign a single decree. I would not hear a single petition. I would rather starve since the woman who brought me peace was starving.

If she was to suffer. Then the King would suffer with her. If she was to be denied the comforts of life, then the Kingdom would be denied its ruler.

I stood by the window on the third night. I was looking out over the Blackwood forest.

The hunger was no longer a sharp pain. It was a dull ache that made my head light.

My body was consuming itself. Just as my heart was consuming my reason. I looked down at the courtyard. I saw the guards patrolling. They were all complicit. Every one of them who stood by and let her be dragged away.

Isolde thought she could break me by taking her. She thought she could force me back into my role by removing the "distraction."

She was wrong. She hadn't removed a distraction. She had removed the anchor.

"Let them wait." I whispered to the empty room.

"Let the council grumble. Let the elders plot. Let the kitchens grow cold."

I thought of the Young Prince Daemon. I felt concern for the boy. But it was overshadowed by the rage I felt for his mother.

If the boy died. Isolde would ensure Sophie followed him to the grave. I had to find a way to save them both. But the hunger was making it hard to think.

I looked back at the flower. It was wilting. Its edges were turning brown. I reached out. I touched a petal. It felt like dry paper.

"Everyone will suffer for what they've done to her." I promised the dying bloom.

"If she does not walk out of that prison soon. I will burn this palace to the ground with everyone inside it."

I sank back into my chair. The darkness of the room closing in on me.

I was the Alpha King. But without her.

I was just a beast in a cage of my own making.