Chapter 10: Cold Dinners, Colder Memories

REINA

Macie knew something that she didn't want to tell me, and that's fine really.

I moved slowly toward the bed, my steps quiet as if afraid to disturb the air. The tray was still in my hands as I settled back down, adjusting the pillows behind me as I examined the tray’s contents.

It was full. Chicken soup with green bits of herbs swirling in its steamy surface, boiled corn cut into neat thirds, grilled fish with delicate golden skin, a small bowl of milky rice that smelled faintly of coconut, and roast vegetables glistening in their buttery coating.

Everything smelled wonderful, and the sight of it stirred something in my chest that I hadn’t felt in a long time; comfort.

I picked up the spoon and stirred the soup, watching tiny droplets dance along the edges of the bowl. Bringing it to my lips, I tasted just a bit.

The warmth bloomed across my tongue, the flavors rich, savory and smooth. I didn’t even realize I had moaned aloud until the sound bounced off the walls.

When last did I taste good food?

Right. That was like ten years ago. The memory came like a sharp slap, quick and unwanted.

The night before the tragedy.

We had all gathered at the dining table. My parents, seated across from each other like always, and my three older brothers—Guapo, Gustavo, and Giovanni. I had taken my usual spot at the right, beside my father, and opposite my mother.

Giovanni had always been the one to poison the air with his sharp tongue. He never failed to twist ordinary moments into something bitter.

That night, I had barely dipped my spoon into the chicken soup before it slipped and dripped onto the polished wood.

"And this is why you're asked to put a tablecloth beneath your plate,” Giovanni had snapped, his voice slicing through the room. “But no, you're just a brat who thinks she owns the world, so everything has to be done your way!"

Guapo’s eyes had darted to him, flashing with irritation. He didn’t say anything, but the glare was clear enough. Giovanni only scoffed and turned his head, as if we weren't worth the energy.

I had looked to Mum, silently asking for a response. She gave me one of those half-hearted smiles that didn’t reach her eyes.

That was how meals with all of them always felt. Tense, and cold. Something always teetered on the edge of an explosion. But when it was just me and my parents, things felt different.

Things were easier. My father would tease me, my mother would let me sneak extra fruit after dessert, and no one would throw sharp words across the table.

I remembered hearing them argue that night, after dinner. Their voices echoed through the long corridor walls even when they tried to be discreet.

They always argued about the same thing. Me, and my brothers. The tension between us that only seemed to worsen with time.

“I want them gone, Melina. I mean it,” Dad had said. “I won’t have them corrupting her anymore.”

“She will learn to tolerate them, my lord! They’re her brothers. And we’re not sending them off to God-knows-where. They have no other relatives—”

That part had always confused me. My mother wasn’t an only child. She had siblings. I had seen letters from them, photographs tucked in drawers she thought I’d never find. So why did she keep insisting my brothers had no other relatives? Didn’t uncles and aunts count for something?

In the quiet of the night, I would hear Guapo’s voice, cold and unforgiving, slipping through the walls or sometimes right outside my door.

“You are the problem, you know,” he would say. “You are the reason they keep fighting. You only know how to ruin everything.”

And I believed him.

I shut my eyes and shook my head, trying to push away all the painful memories. They sold me off without a second thought; it was clear I didn’t matter to them at all.

Looking around the small room where Alpha Logan kept me, I couldn’t help but notice how tiny it was. Honestly, it was even smaller than the servants' quarters in my dad's castle. But you know what? It was cozy. This little space was the only comfort I’d felt in ten years.

I took another spoonful of the soup, letting the warm taste spread across my tongue.

"Mm," I couldn’t help but moan a little as I savored it. Picking out the corn, I started to eat more. I figured I might as well enjoy this while I could. The past was behind me, and I refused to let it ruin this moment of comfort.

But then a sudden thought hit me like a ton of bricks. If I was going to accept this comfort, did that mean I had to accept Logan’s advances too?

Did I really want that?

I shook my head again, forcing myself to focus on the meal. By the time I finished, I let out a burp, and suddenly, I heard a voice that made me jump.

"That is not very ladylike."

"Ah!" I gasped, turning around. The tray slipped from my hands, and I watched in horror as the dishes were about to crash to the floor. I shut my eyes, bracing for the sound, but it never came.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and was shocked to see the dishes floating above the floor. My mouth dropped open as they gently settled back onto the tray, which then returned to the cabinet. I turned to Logan, completely bewildered.

"How did you...?"

He smirked as he walked toward my bed, looking all too pleased with himself. "Reina, my moon rose, you see, I’m capable of many things. Just because I let you enjoy this little game of ours doesn’t mean I’m powerless. Far from it, my moon rose."

I shuddered at his words.

For some reason, instead of feeling scared, I felt a strange thrill. There was something about the way he spoke that stirred something inside me.

I was aroused and the look on his face told me that he knew!