Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Elena
A few nights later, I headed to the kitchen.
I'd officially started learning the ropes of Hale royalty.
Had to relearn etiquette, memorize every noble family—their relationships, titles, taboos, preferences, crests, power plays, internal politics—until I knew them better than myself.
The names made my head throb. Royal protocol was nothing like noble protocol.
Had to move with more grace, hold tension in my body but not too much, control my breathing while looking effortlessly at ease.
My arms ached like hell. Today was the first chance I'd had to slip away.
The servants had already gone to bed, but the stove was still warm.
I turned on the light and rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients.
I flipped through the recipe book, frowning at what I could actually make.
Finally settled on the simplest thing—meat soup.
Though "simple" was a stretch. I kept worrying the meat wasn't cooked through, lifting the lid every few minutes to check, my nerves wound tight.
When the aroma finally rose, I let out a heavy breath.
"Radishes—" I peeled the skin. The recipe said to cut them "medium thickness.
" "Medium"? What the hell did that mean?
I hesitated with the knife, eventually picking out pieces that looked decent enough and dropped them in the soup.
Turned it to low heat so the meat's flavor and the broth's spices could seep into the radish slices.
I cut some bread too, trimmed it to look nice, and floated it in the soup as garnish.
Done! I exhaled. The kitchen was a disaster. God, I was not cut out for cooking. But making something by hand for the man you loved—that felt like an achievement.
"You did great," my wolf murmured.
I carried the tray to the study door.
Light leaked through the gap. I stood there a moment, then knocked three times.
"Come in."
I pushed the door open. Lucifer sat behind his desk. Files stacked high, fountain pen resting beside his hand. He glanced up, pupils widening slightly, like he hadn't expected me. His gaze dropped from my face to the tray, then back to the papers.
"You're still up," I said, walking over.
Lucifer paused. "Still have work." He rubbed his temples, his other hand flipping through documents. Stubble shadowed his jaw, dark circles carved deep beneath his eyes. The exhaustion radiating off him hit me hard. I bit my lip.
I set the tray on the corner of his desk. The soup steamed, scent rolling off it in waves. Lucifer's nose twitched.
"Eat it while it's hot," I said. My heart clenched. He looked so tired.
Lucifer's fingers gripped the document.
"You don't need to do this."
His voice was tight.
"I know," I said, standing beside him, forcing myself to tell him. "But I wanted to."
He looked up at me. Lamplight hit his face from the side, casting the shadow of his nose across his cheek.
Those gray eyes locked on mine. I held my breath without meaning to.
Mate, my wolf whispered, but Lucifer couldn't hear it.
I had no scent. The spell blocked his ability to sense the bond between us.
So he just watched me for a few seconds, then dropped his gaze back to the papers.
But I could feel it.
I could feel the bond pulling at me, calling me closer to my mate.
I stood in front of the desk. Didn't move. I wondered—did he still remember me? Or rather, did he remember the woman from that one-night stand?
"Lucifer."
He didn't answer. His jaw tightened. I could feel his irritation rising. Because of me.
"Liam's birth mother," I said. "Do you still remember her?"
His fingers stopped turning the page. Just for a beat. Less than half a second. Then he flipped to the next one, voice flat and emotionless. "Why are you asking?"
"I just... wanted to know."
"That's none of your business." His voice went cold. "Is it? Don't bring it up again!"
I clasped my hands together in front of me.
Lucifer put the file down. "You should go," he said, exhaling slowly, like he was keeping himself from saying something harsher. "This isn't where you belong."
My wolf curled up inside me. Our mate was pushing us away. It broke her heart.
I steadied myself, curtsied, and rushed out of the study. His cold expression echoed in my mind. Don't bring it up again. He... didn't want to talk about me. Made sense. That night was probably a disgrace to him—sleeping with a waitress.
I clenched my jaw, refusing to let any passing maid sense my vulnerability. I kept my chin high all the way back to my room.
I ate lunch alone. Ever since Liam's scene in the dining room, Lucifer stopped letting me join them.
"Liam doesn't want to see you," he'd said matter-of-factly, businesslike. "Lina will take care of him."
I'd wanted to say—wanted to remind him I was Luna, Liam's mother—but I didn't. As Alpha, Lucifer's orders weren't up for debate. And besides, Liam really did resist me.
Kids need time to adjust to a stranger, my wolf said. We could go see him ourselves? Maybe bake some treats as a peace offering?
She had a point.
I went to the kitchen. Four maids were cleaning up. They curtsied when they saw me. I asked them what kind of desserts Liam liked. The maids exchanged awkward glances until one in the corner spoke up. Liam liked sweets, especially the walnut almond cake Lina made—fragrant and soft.
"If you add some almond flour, the texture gets even better," the maid added. "Lina does that all the time."
All the time. The words stung a little. She'd been making food for my child, acting like his mother.
It's okay, my wolf sensed my hurt. Now you can make it for him.
"Liam's picky. This is about the only thing he'll eat more than a bite of." The maid kept talking. I was already sold. Didn't notice the other maids trying to say something.
I grabbed flour, eggs, butter, and a jar of almond flour.
I opened the jar and sniffed it, then the flour.
All fresh. At some point, the kitchen had emptied out.
I pulled out the tools. I'd never made a cake before, but I'd watched Jenny do it.
Every Saturday, she'd bake one in the kitchen.
Thinking of Jenny made my chest ache. How was she doing?
After Mother took me in as a Gray, she wouldn't let me see my old friends. "They're beneath you," Mother had said.
I recalled Jenny's steps, carefully mixing everything like I was blending a perfume. Sunlight poured into the kitchen. The first batch collapsed. The second burned around the edges. The third finally rose, golden on top with a beautiful crack down the center.
I cut the cake into small pieces and arranged them on a porcelain plate painted with lilies. Made the cake look even better.
My wolf whistled.
I asked a servant where Liam was. The drawing room. When I pushed the door open with the plate in hand, he was on the carpet drawing, colored pencils scattered everywhere. His ears were sharp. He turned his head eagerly—then saw it was me. His face shut down.
"Liam," I said with a smile, walking in. I sat down a few feet away from him and set the plate on the carpet. "I baked a cake."
Liam kept drawing. "Don't want it."
"Oh." I shrugged, picked up a piece, and took a bite. The toasted almond flour spread through my mouth, the crust crisp, the inside soft. I chewed twice, not looking at him, pretending to talk to myself. "So good."
His pencil stopped.
"Crispy on the outside," I said, taking another bite. "Soft inside. I can't finish this by myself. Shame to waste it."
He didn't turn around, but his pencil slowed on the paper. I chewed a little louder, letting the crumbs make a faint crunch in my mouth. I saw the back of his head move slightly—that little motion of wanting to turn but holding back.
"I can't eat any more," I said, fighting a smile, raising my voice. "I was hoping to share with someone. If no one wants it, I'll have to throw it away."
His pencil stopped completely. He twisted around, eyes glued to the cake in my hand.
"You really can't finish it?" Liam's tone was still stiff, but thawing.
"Nope," I said, waving the half-eaten piece. "Want to help?"
Liam clutched his pencil, lips pressed tight. He looked at the cake, then at me, then at the cake again. "Then... I guess I'll try just a tiny bite." He said it quietly, like he was convincing himself.
"Sure." I pushed the plate toward him. "But first, let me see what you drew."
He hesitated, then held up the paper. A wobbly little stick figure and a bigger, shapeless yellow blob.
"What's this?"
"That's my dad." He pointed to the smaller figure, then paused, voice dropping. "That's a dog. The dog from the estate."
"It's really good." I clapped. "You earned a piece."
Liam hadn't expected praise. His expression softened. He dropped the pencil and grabbed a small piece, shoving it in his mouth. After two chews, his eyes lit up. He reached for a second piece, a third, cheeks puffed out.
I watched his bulging cheeks. Made me want to poke them. But I resisted.
"Can I draw you a picture too?" I asked.
Liam, mouth full of cake, mumbled something. Probably "okay." I took the colored pencils and drew a flower on the blank space beside him. White petals, green leaves. Simple. He leaned in to look, nose almost touching the paper, still clutching a fourth piece of cake.
"How is it?" I asked.
Liam looked reluctant, but I stared at him, and he'd just eaten my cake. He grunted.
"Not bad," he said, then added, "But Mommy Lina's way better."
Still, we'd gotten closer today. I was happy.
Liam picked up the paper to keep drawing.
But he froze.
His face suddenly scrunched up. The cake was still in his mouth, unswallowed. His breathing quickened, turned sharp, a blocked sound rising from his throat. He dropped the cake and clutched his neck with both hands.
"Liam?" I rushed to his side.
He didn't answer. His lips turned purple, his whole face flushed red. He curled up on the carpet, making a raspy, wheezing sound. I pulled him into my arms. Fine red hives were breaking out across his skin.
Allergic reaction. The thought flashed through my mind.
"Someone help!"
The door slammed open. Lina burst in. She saw Liam and went white. She screamed "Healer!" and ripped him from my arms. I stumbled back, palms hitting the carpet, pressing into cake crumbs.
The room exploded into chaos. Maids ran in, the healer rushed in, Liam curled in Lina's arms gasping for air, lips turning black-purple.
The healer pried his mouth open and poured medicine down his throat, laid him flat on the carpet, and pressed something against his chest. Lina knelt beside him, gripping his hand, murmuring something over and over.
I sat on the carpet, watching them form a circle. I couldn't get through.
My mind went blank, eyes fixed on the cake crumbs.
After a long time—or maybe just minutes—Liam's breathing steadied. His color shifted from blue-purple to pale pink. The healer straightened up. "He's stable for now."
Then the door opened.
Someone had told Lucifer. He practically charged in.
The air in the room dropped. His steps were fast. In seconds, he was beside Liam, crouching down, scooping him up, pressing the back of his hand to the boy's forehead.
He turned his head to listen to the healer's report.
He nodded, handed the child back to Lina, then stood. Turned around.
He saw the cake crumbs. The white porcelain plate. The almond flour dusting my dress.
"What did you feed him?" His voice was a low growl.
"Cake," I said, standing. "I baked an almond cake—"
The next second, Lucifer roared. "You didn't know he's allergic to almond flour?"
The servants went silent.
I flinched, heart racing. "I didn't know—"
"You didn't know and you fed him anyway?"
His voice shot up, suffocating. He stepped forward, towering over me. I forced myself to stand my ground. "Today in the kitchen, I asked the maids. They said Lina makes it all the time—"
Lucifer's eyes swept coldly over them.
"Really?"
The maids didn't dare speak. I spotted the one who'd told me in the kitchen that Liam liked almond flour cake. "It was her! She said it."
But she immediately bowed her head. "I never said that, Your Majesty. Why would I? I said Lina never uses almond flour."
"Really?" Lucifer stared at the other maids. They nodded hesitantly, eyes avoiding mine.
"Yes, that's what Senna said—"
"We were confused too, why Luna would... use almond flour."
Lucifer's gaze grew colder, like two blades piercing through me. "Anything else you want to say?" he said in a low voice, punctuated with growls.
I'd been struck by lightning. I'd fallen into a trap. I looked at Lina. She held Liam, tears of worry still on her face. When she felt my gaze, she turned.
She smiled at me.
A taunting smile. "You idiot," I read in her expression.
"Get out!" Lucifer finally said. The way he looked at me—like I was trash.
I knew my explanation was useless. Or rather, the moment Lina used the maids to set her trap, my explanation was already a waste of time.
My heart cracked open, fissures spreading, but it kept beating, so every pulse deepened the pain.
My wolf was howling too.
Guards pushed me out. Lina turned back around, worry settling on her face again. "Lucifer..." Lucifer wrapped an arm around her shoulder, seeming to comfort her.
The door shut.
I was freezing.
Lina. Kind, gentle Lina who'd cared for Liam for five years. I'd thought she loved Liam, even if she didn't like me.
But I never thought she'd use Liam.
She was dangerous.
I couldn't let her near Liam again!
Even if Lucifer didn't believe me anymore.