Masuk
Sophie's POV
“This is impossible.” I managed to say the words.
I reached for the library shelf. The air smelled of old, rusty papers. I touched a worn-out journal. It tingled. Almost like a heartbeat.
“The Ledger of Satiety.” My heart skipped.
My father told me stories of Alpha Alaric, the legendary king. Now I held his personal journal.
He would teach me ancient recipes and speak of Alpha Alaric while we cooked.
I snatched the book. My excitement caused a mistake. I knocked over my open water bottle.
Liquid spread across the historical pages. I could not stop it.
Oh, no! No, no, no. I muttered.
My hands shook. The librarian would expel me or even worse if she get to see this.
I took the book and ran to the restroom. My heart raced. I entered a stall. I grabbed a paper towel. Dabbed the pages.
Please, please. I whisper a plea.
The towel soaked up the water. New words appeared on the last page. They looked like a dark bruise. The ink was messy.
“My love. If these words reach you. Please come back to me.”
The words felt heavy in my chest. I whispered them aloud without thinking. Please come back to me.
The lights died. The floor disappeared. I hit the wall of the stall. The air now smelled of pine.
I reached for a door. I found only cold air.
Then everything went black.
The next thing. A rope was pulling my wrists. I opened my eyes and screamed. The wind took my voice.
I hung six feet in the air. A net held me like a fish. I saw shadows moved around me.
A man was walking towards me. He was broad. He was majestic. He was taller than any man I'd since. His hair was dark and smoothly combed.
He looked at me. His eyes had a golden glow. He looked like a king. He also looked like a guy who lives in the woods.
“Pfft.” He scoffed.
His voice was rough. "The Moon Goddess sent a human ghost to mock me?”
“I’m not a ghost!" I struggled against the rope. "I’m a person! Let me down right now, or I’m calling the police!”
He looked at me with confusion.
He drew out a metal sword.
"You dress like a demon and smell of strange chemicals. You are the spirit sent to punish me for neglecting the sacred ritual."
"I'm a chef, you crazy person!" I screamed.
A whistling sound cut the air.
Thwip!
A silver arrow flew. It cut the rope and I fell. The man grabbed me before I could gain my balance. His hand locked around my waist.
“Rogue…” He said faintly.
The arrow had hit his shoulder. I could not hold his weight so we fell off a hidden cliff.
The wind stole the air from my chest as we fell into the ocean.
I dug my fingers into the mud of the river bank. I pulled him out of the river. He was heavy. I fought for breath.
He was numb and cold. Blood soaked his garment.
"Great. This is fantastic." I whispered sarcastically.
I took out a small bottle of hand sanitizer from my pocket. It's all I had left. I'd lost my bag at the edge of the cliff.
I poured the gel onto his wound. His eyes opened immediately. He gripped my hand. I felt his warm breath.
"What are you doing, witch!"
"I'm stopping the bleeding!" I responded.
"Look! It's working!"
He looked at the plastic bottle. He looked at the wound.
He looked confused. Like he didn't know what plastic was.
He started at me. Not knowing whether to kill me or thank me.
He stood up. He started walking toward the trees. I followed him. I needed answers.
We walked for miles. I shook from the cold. My shoes ruined.
We found a small hut. He kicked the wooden gate open.
“You don't just kick down the door of a house that isn't yours.” I yelled.
“Everything in this kingdom belongs to me.” He replied.
“Ha-ha.” I let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Very arrogant.” I muttered.
A young lady came out of the hut. The moment she saw the man. She dropped to her knees.
Your Majesty! She cried. Her voice trembling. "You’re hurt!"
I stared at her. Then at the man.
“Haha.” I let out a thin, humourous sound. “This is a joke. Is this a movie? Where are the cameras?”
No one laughed.
The lady looked at me with surprise. The man completely ignored me. He sat on a bench outside the hut.
“Come,” the woman urged in a whisper. “Help me fetch water for the King.”
I followed her immediately, my head spinning.
The King?
“Why did you call him that?
Why are you all acting strange?
Is this a prank?” I asked all questions at the same time.
The lady stopped and turned to me. Her face dead serious. "He is Alpha Alaric, the King of Blackwood. Everyone knows the King, who are you to speak of him so rudely?"
The name hit me like a punch.
“The Tyrant King?” My mouth became dry.
"Wait. What year is it?"
"Everyone knows it's the year of the sacred moon, the year 1525," she said.
“Why are you acting like you are not from around here”. She added.
I could not speak. The bucket fell.
1525. I was five hundred years away from a hot shower, my cell phone, and my life. I was trapped in a history book. Those were the thoughts that flooded my mind.
We went inside. I couldn't cry. My stomach was empty. I had to cook to stay focused.
I found meat and carrots. I found rice and herbs. I started a fire. The smell of the food helped me stay sane.
The man sat outside. He was exhausted.
I spoke with Martha while I prepared the meal. I used the tricks my father taught me. I wanted to bring out the flavor of the wild meat.
I finished cooking. I brought him a bowl.
"Eat," I said, my voice flat. "It's not poisoned."
He gave me a long stare.
“I don't eat food meant for peasants.” He whispered.
I rolled my eyes.
“Then you would have to starve.” I replied.
Martha and I began to eat. I heard his stomach rumble.
I took a spoonful to his mouth.
“Ahh.” I said softly. Signifying he should open his mouth.
He took a cautious bite.
Then he froze.
The hut was quiet. The fire crackled. He looked at the bowl.
A tear dropped from his eye.
“This taste…” His voice broke. “This is my mother’s recipe.” He said softly.
“How do you have her soul in this bowl?” He demanded.
My heart dropped into my stomach because I hadn’t just fed a monster.
I’d reached into his past and I had no idea what that would cost me.
Magnus’s POVI sat in my chamber. The silence was heavy. The fire crackled. It was meant to provide warmth. Tonight, the sound was just an irritating noise. I stared at the flame. I watched them consume the logs. Much like I intended to consume the throne of Blackwood.My thoughts were dark. Alaric is no longer the person I can control. For years, I carefully cultivated his rage. I fed his hunger for revenge like one feeds a starving beast. I needed him to be a tyrant. I wanted him to be hated. So when the time came, the coup would feel like a liberation rather than a betrayal. Now, his focus has shifted. He is obsessed with a ghost who fell from the sky.I had initially dismissed Elara’s warnings as the bitter ramblings of a jealous woman. I was wrong. I have seen it with my own eyes. Alaric is softening. He looks at that chef not with the eyes of a King. But with the eyes of a man who is finding peace. Peace is a luxury I can’t allow him have.A knock at the door disrupted my
Elara’s POVThe moon hung high over the kingdom of Blackwood. Its light brought me no peace.I sat alone in my chamber. The silk of my gown feeling like sandpaper against my skin. Every time I closed my eyes. I saw her. That ghost of a girl with her strange clothes. She was a rot in my garden. A weed that refused to be plucked. She was ruining everything I had spent years building.Alaric is changing. I can feel it in the way he speaks. The way he carries himself. Most dangerously, the way he looks at her. He is no longer the predictable tyrant I need him to be. A tyrant is easy to lead; you simply point him at an enemy and watch him tear them apart. But Alaric is softening. He is looking for "truth" and "justice" instead of the raw, bloody revenge. Revenge that would keep this kingdom in a state of chaos. If he finds out the truth about his mother’s death. He might not kill the people I need him to kill. He might actually think. And a thinking King is a King I cannot control.Thi
Alaric’s POVI couldn't watch her sob. It cut through me like a blade. This was not a servant crying over a broken dish. It is not a soldier weeping for a lost comrade. It was the sound of a soul being hollowed out. I could not bear to see her cry. She looked so small. She looked fragile. I left Cassian standing like a fool. I moved to her. I grabbed Sophie from the cold dirt. I pulled her up. Until she was steady on her feet.“Stop.” I said. My voice softer than I ever intended it to be. “I promise you. I will make sure I find the book that brought you here.”She looked at me. Her eyes red with grief. Her hands were trembling. She clutched the straps of her bag.“It is the only proof I have, Alaric.” she whispered. “Without it, I am just a ghost with no home.”“You are no ghost to me.” I replied. I held her shoulders firmly. “Go have some rest. You have worked enough today. I will send out the guards tomorrow in search of the book. We will scour every inch of this kingdom unti
Sophie's POV The steam of the final broth had barely cleared.Cassian entered the kitchen. He ignored the other chefs. His eyes found me immediately. The urgency in his posture made me a little nervous.“The Alpha would like to see you at the royal farm.” Cassian said. His voice was low. “He expects you as soon as your duties here are finished.”I wiped my hands on my apron. I nodded slowly. “I’m done now. I was just about to head to my quarters.”“Don’t keep him waiting.” Cassian advised. He turned to his heel.I headed for the farm. The night air was cold. Shadows stretched across the stone path. I smelled earth and horses. Alaric stood in the clearing. He did not move as I approached. I knew he heard my footsteps.“There you are.” Alaric said as he turned slowly.He kept his hands behind his back. His shoulders were stiffed. I paused a few feet away.“You called for me, Your Majesty?” I asked. I tilted my head. I tried to see what he was hiding. “Why are your hands behind
Alaric’s POVThe feast was over. I watched Sophie walk away. Her head held high. Elara had stormed out behind her. The air in the Great Hall finally felt thin enough to breathe. I turned to my uncle. Magnus was swirling the last of the wine in his cup. He looked satisfied.“You have a rare creature in that kitchen, Alaric.” Magnus said. “But we have more pressing matters than poultry. Tell me. How far have you gone in the case of your mother’s death? Have you found the ones who offended her memory?”I looked at him. I respected Magnus. He was the only family I had left. The one who did not try to steal my crown. I decided to speak with an open heart.“I am working on it Uncle.” I said. I leaned forward. “I have sent Eunuch George to find the truth. He is digging through the old records. He is looking for the names that were erased.”Magnus paused. His hand stopped moving. He looked at me with a calculating gaze.“Eunuch George?” Magnus asked. “He is a quiet man. A safe choice.
Sophie’s POVThe Great Hall felt like a pressure cooker. It was ready to blow. I stood there. I clutched my empty tray. The air hummed with the aftershocks of the meal. Lady Elara sat frozen. Her were knuckles white. She gripped the edge of the table. Elara looked at me. Her eyes told me I would burn. I looked back at her. My eyes told her she could do nothing. In my mind, I spoke to her. Go ahead and try Elara. You have no idea who you are dealing with. I am a girl from the future. I have seen empires fall. I've seen technology rise. I already know your every move. I will always win.The plate I served were empty. Elara stared at the Grand Prince. She wanted him to rule in her favor.The Grand Prince spoke. "No doubt." Magnus started.His voice echoing in the rafters. "The Chief Royal Chef is talented. This meal was... an experience. However, we must not overlook tradition. Elara captured what tradition truly means. It represents the stability of the Blackwood bloodline."He







