Chapter 84

I was reaching the limit of what I could manage on my own, searching for a spy within my own pack. I couldn’t go to my father with my suspicions; I had no solid evidence, and the idea alone would upset him.

Claiming that someone within our own pack had betrayed us would only heighten his anxiety.

The only real piece of evidence I had was the letter David had sent, which had mysteriously appeared on my desk. My father had confiscated the envelope, and his team was investigating it, but as far as I knew, they hadn’t discovered anything yet.

If I were to suggest that a medical professional in our pack was complicit in poisoning me and keeping my wolf dormant, it would add stress to the load my parents were already carrying.

They had already been through so much with everything that happened with David, not to mention the whirlwind romance I now had with Alexander. They had accepted it all, doing everything they could to support me, despite their worries.

Remembering everything they’d sacrificed for me, both now and in the past, I felt like a spoiled child for the way I’d acted in the original timeline.

I hadn’t seen the situation for what it was back then and hadn’t taken responsibility as the alpha’s only child. I was determined to change that this time around.

But my resources were limited. I had no solid proof against anyone in the pack who might have been helping David poison me. The doctor said that keeping my wolf dormant would have required small doses of poison administered regularly, which meant it was likely someone in the house had been tampering with my food.

That’s why I decided to reach out to the only cook I could trust—Bethany. She was a kind, older woman who had worked in the kitchens since I was a child. She’d taught me to cook when I was curious and even helped prepare the food at my wedding with David.

When I asked her if she could come by and help me prepare a special dessert to surprise Alexander, she was delighted, arriving bright and early the next morning, her excitement evident in the warmth of her smile.

“If you want the cookies to be fluffy, add a little extra baking powder,” Bethany advised, watching me as I carefully measured ingredients into a large glass bowl.

“How do you know so much about cooking?” I asked, glancing at her as I sifted flour.

“I’ve been cooking my whole life,” she replied with a warm smile. “Working in the kitchens here at the estate was my dream—I was doing what I loved for the people who mattered most to our pack.”

“So why did you leave, then?” I asked, curious.

A strange expression crossed her face, and she shook her head slightly. “The new head cook. I believe you were still in high school when she started. She and I… didn’t get along well.”

“Why not?” I pressed, searching her face for any trace of hidden resentment.

“She was very particular about every dish,” Bethany explained, her voice tinged with a faint irritation. “It can be a good thing, but she would get angry if anyone came in early and cooked without her supervision. It was as if she needed to add her ‘special touch’ to every meal.”

“Is that the same woman who runs the kitchen now?” I asked, frowning.

Bethany nodded. “I believe so. I often thought that if she left, I might try to come back. But as far as I know, she’s still there.”

I turned my attention back to the bowl in front of me, cracking the room-temperature eggs into the mixture. Could this head cook somehow be connected to the strange events happening to me? If she insisted on overseeing every dish, maybe it was to ensure that a particular substance made it into my food.

But even as the thought crossed my mind, it felt like a stretch. Poisoning food that others could potentially eat would be a risky and inefficient approach.

Still, the idea lingered—just a faint hint of suspicion that I couldn’t ignore. I’d have to look more closely into her and see what I could learn.

In the meantime, though, I focused on the task at hand. I did genuinely want to surprise Alexander, and these butterscotch cookies were going to be delicious.

“Keep stirring,” Bethany instructed, patting my shoulder. “You want everything to be well mixed.”

I tried to focus on Bethany's instructions, but my mind kept drifting back to the unsettling possibility that someone had been poisoning my food.

There was one night in particular that stood out—the last time I’d truly felt connected to my wolf. I remember getting violently sick after a dinner party at my home, where David and Amanda had been guests. It was possible that one of them had slipped something into my meal.

Or perhaps David had bribed someone to do it, just as he’d paid the barista to poison my coffee a few days ago.

The memory of that night sent a chill through me. I’d been so sick afterward, barely able to get out of bed for days. My weakened state had masked the gradual fading of my wolf, so it never occurred to me then that the illness might be connected. But now, it felt all too obvious.

I glanced at Bethany as she moved around the kitchen. She navigated the space instinctively, putting together delicious-looking appetizers for dinner tonight. I couldn’t help but consider the idea of asking my father to bring her back to work for us.

I trusted Bethany, and having someone by my side—someone who would notice and alert me to anything suspicious—would be invaluable.

Watching her, it was clear that she missed this place. Asking her to return might bring her joy, and I could probably arrange for her to work independently from the head chef. My parents rarely denied me anything, so I felt confident they’d allow me a private cook if I requested it.

I slid the cookie tray into the oven, already feeling a flutter of anticipation as I thought of Alexander’s arrival. He’d said he’d barely make it in time for dinner due to a meeting, yet just the thought of him being here made my pulse quicken, pushing all other worries into the background.

Ever since that night with him, I found myself reacting to even the briefest thought of him in ways I couldn’t control. Tonight was sure to be… challenging. Not only would I have to face my mother’s skeptical gaze on our engagement, but I’d also have to mask my own embarrassment around him.

Still, Alexander was my fiancé—I couldn’t afford to let anyone think there was anything less than steady ground between us.

"I didn’t know you could cook."

I whirled around, startled, to see Alexander leaning against the doorway, his lips curving into that familiar smirk. In one hand, he held a bouquet of fresh flowers; several elegant gift bags hung from his other arm.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, still processing his presence.

“My meeting ended early,” he said, stepping forward and extending the bouquet to me. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

My fingers closed around the delicate stems as I took the flowers from him, their fragrance wrapping around me. “You’ve certainly succeeded,” I murmured, feeling warmth rise to my cheeks as I brought the bouquet to my chest.

Alexander’s smile brought a wave of calm over me, easing the tight knot of anxiety that had been building in my chest. With him here, the evening suddenly felt manageable.

I could do this—I could find the answers about my wolf, uncover the truth hidden in shadows, and take back control of my life.

I just had to be patient, steady, and relentless. Alexander would help me find what I needed, and together, we would face whatever came next.