Chapter 5: A Pretty Face Has Its Perks

Alpha King Alaric side-eyed Serena Blackwood’s overflowing plate, a low rumble of discontent vibrating in his chest. *That woman,* he grumbled internally, his wolf pacing with irritation. *Her favoritism hasn't changed a bit. She piles all the prime cuts into that little brat’s bowl and completely ignores her mate.*

When the meal was finally nearing its end, the Alpha King couldn't hold back his growl any longer. "Do you truly intend to Mate with that pup from the Patrick family?"

Serena swallowed a mouthful of roasted venison, nodding with a grin. "Who doesn't like a handsome face, Grandfather?"

Alpha Patrick of the River East Pack was renowned across the territories. His strength and beauty were legendary, and countless high-born she-wolves from prestigious packs had secretly bared their necks for him, hoping for a claim. It was only natural that Serena felt the pull of attraction.

King Alaric clicked his tongue, unimpressed. "Look at you, so shallow. What use is a pretty face when the winter comes?"

Serena raised an eyebrow, her inner wolf yipping playfully. "A pretty face gets you a Mate. Isn't that how you got Luna Queen Eleanor to follow you to the ends of the earth? Because of your 'unparalleled handsome face'?"

She had heard the pack legends. Back then, her Grandfather was nothing but a rogue with empty pockets and a wild spirit. He had tricked the high-born Grandmother into his den purely on the strength of his rugged good looks.

Hearing this, King Alaric’s chest puffed out, a smug expression crossing his face. "That is true. Your Grandfather was the most handsome wolf in ten territories. Your Grandmother should count herself lucky she gets to sleep in my nest."

Luna Queen Eleanor turned her head away in mock disgust, refusing to look at him. Meanwhile, Serena finally finished the mountain of food in her bowl.

Seeing his Queen’s feigned annoyance, Alaric sighed helplessly. "Fine. If your wolf truly calls for that boy, I can issue the Mating Decree."

The Queen shot him an approving look. "That’s more like it."

"However," Alaric added, his tone sharpening, "The Royal Capital is full of strong young Alphas. That Patrick boy isn't necessarily the strongest of the litter. Next month, I’ll have your Grandmother organize a Grand Tournament. Let the heirs of every Alpha come and compete. You look at the other males. If your wolf still doesn't howl for anyone else, I will issue the decree for Patrick. Deal?"

Serena nodded. "Deal. I listen to my Alpha."

After the meal, the Royal couple needed their midday rest.

Serena looked at the two of them, who were eyeing her with expectant gazes. She groaned. "Grandfather, Grandmother, I’m eighteen years old. My wolf is fully grown. You can’t possibly expect me to curl up in your nest like a pup anymore!"

When she was a pup, Serena ruled the roost. The Luna Queen would hum lullabies, and the Alpha King would use his own aura to swat away mosquitoes. But that was when she was five!

Alaric looked ready to swat her. "Get to your own den then! You’re an eyesore. And no running off!"

Serena grinned mischievously. "I’m taking Faye to walk off the meal."

Faye, her maid, immediately stomped her foot. "Lady Serena, I only ate one bowl!"

Despite claiming they were walking off the food, Serena led Faye straight to the Royal Pack Kitchens.

Faye looked confused. "My Lady, you ate so much at the Alpha’s table, and you’re still hungry? Is your wolf taking over?"

Serena feigned innocence. "I just remembered someone loves the Moon-Petal Pastries made by the Master Chef here. I wonder if you have room in your stomach for them?"

Faye’s eyes lit up like stars, and she nodded furiously.

The Moon-Petal Pastries were legendary—sweet, savory, and capable of settling even a wolf’s raging appetite. When Serena was a pup and refused to eat, the Luna Queen had been frantic until one of the Master Chefs presented these pastries. Since leaving the Capital, Serena hadn't tasted them once.

Serena smiled. "Today, you eat until you burst."

Faye froze. "Really?"

"If you don't keep up, I’m rescinding the offer!"

"Coming! I'm coming!" Faye cheered, her tail practically wagging. It was so good to have the Young Miss back.

Serena walked into a quiet corner of the massive kitchens. There, on a rocking chair, lay a chef built like a mountain, fast asleep. He looked like a sleeping bear.

Serena kicked the chair. "Wake up."

Instantly, the bustling kitchen froze. The air pressure dropped. This Master Chef, known as 'The Butcher,' was a legend. Even the Head Beta of the kitchens bowed to him. He rarely cooked, only making dishes for the Alpha King himself, spending the rest of his time sleeping in the corner.

The large man snapped his eyes open. A jagged scar ran down his face, making him look terrifying—like a demon ready to devour a soul.

Faye hid behind Serena, trembling. The Butcher was as scary as ever. The first time eight-year-old Faye saw him, she had burst into tears. The trauma lingered.

Serena crouched down, meeting the big man’s gaze levelly. "Knowing I’m back, and you’re still hiding here slacking off?"

Recognizing the scent, the Butcher’s ferocious face split into a wide grin. "So, the little rascal has returned!"

Serena laughed. "Uncle Tubbs, do you have any Moon-Petal Pastries?"

Uncle Tubbs let out a booming laugh. Despite his bulk, he stood up from the rocking chair with the grace of a seasoned warrior. "For others? No. For you? As many as you can eat!"

He walked to a private station and began kneading dough. Serena took his spot on the rocking chair.

Faye poured her some tea and sat on a small stool, fanning her mistress. She leaned in, whispering like a thief, "My Lady, the Master Chef is still so terrifying."

Serena clasped her hands behind her head. "Quiet, or he’ll hear you and put wolfsbane in your pastry."

Faye clamped her mouth shut.

Serena closed her eyes. "That new she-wolf serving Grandmother... what’s her story?"

Faye blinked. "You mean Lyla? I heard there was a flood in the Southern Territories. Her family couldn't afford to feed her, so she sold herself into service at the Palace."

"And how did she end up serving directly under the Luna Queen?"

"Because of you, My Lady!"

Serena opened her eyes, her gaze sharp. "Because of me?"

Faye nodded. "Remember the year of the Luna’s birthday? You crafted a golden hairpin for her. After you left the Capital, the Luna missed you terribly and wore it often. One day, it went missing. It was Lyla who found it in the frozen pond of the Queen’s private garden. The Luna saw she was loyal and well-mannered, so she promoted her."

Serena frowned, her inner wolf bristling with suspicion. "Are you sure it was the pond in the private garden?"

Faye nodded vigorously. "I’m sure. When Lyla brought the hairpin back, she was soaked to the bone, her face purple from the cold!"

Serena fell silent, a cold smile touching her lips. "Loyalty... is a good thing."

Making Moon-Petal Pastries was a complex process, but Uncle Tubbs’ hands were a blur of speed. Within an hour, the steaming pastries were ready.

Serena inhaled deeply. *That scent.* She hadn't smelled it in three years. Nostalgia hit her hard.

She tossed a fist-sized gourd of wine toward Uncle Tubbs. "Let's go. Don't disturb Uncle's nap."

She and Faye grabbed the pastries and left without looking back.

Uncle Tubbs popped the cork on the gourd. Instantly, a rich, potent aroma filled the kitchen. Legend had it that the Drunken Hermit of the North only brewed one type of liquor—*Elysian Nectar*. He only made two ounces every ten years. It went to the highest bidder.

This gourd alone was worth a hundred thousand gold coins.

Uncle Tubbs grinned, his scar stretching. "The little rascal has a conscience."

He took a deep sniff, unable to bring himself to drink it yet, and carefully tucked it away. The last time he tasted *Elysian Nectar* was twenty years ago. Who knew if that old hermit would live long enough to brew another batch?

On the way back, Faye stuffed her face with pastries, mumbling, "My Lady, these are delicious! I’m so happy I could howl!"

Serena chuckled. "Look at you, so easily pleased."

When they returned to the Royal Chambers, the King and Queen were awake.

Lyla was helping the Alpha King dress. If one looked closely, the maid seemed to have changed into a thinner, more translucent uniform, exposing the curve of her delicate neck right before the Alpha’s eyes.

King Alaric inhaled slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "The scent on you... it is quite pleasant."

Lyla curtsied, a shy, gentle smile on her lips. "Your Majesty, this servant has carried a faint, natural scent since birth. My family often praised it."

Curiosity piqued in the King’s eyes. He was about to ask more when Serena strode into the room, her presence commanding.

"Grandfather! Look what good things I brought you." Serena’s voice was crisp, instantly snapping the Alpha’s attention away from the maid.

Faye timely presented the Moon-Petal Pastries, their glaze glistening under the chandelier.

"Lady Serena was worried Your Majesties might be hungry after your nap, so she went to the kitchens personally to select these for you," Faye announced.

Luna Queen Eleanor walked out of the bedroom. "Ah, you went to see the Butcher. Only you have that kind of luck with food."

Lyla, seeing her moment slipping, stepped forward again. "Your Majesty, allow this servant to comb your hair."

Her hand reached for the King, but before she could touch him, Serena’s hand clamped around her wrist like a steel trap.

"You can leave, sister. I’ll do it."

Lyla’s expression cracked with pain. Serena didn't seem to be using much force, yet the maid’s wrist was turning an angry red.

Lyla stammered, "Lady Serena... you are of noble blood. How can I trouble you with such menial tasks? Let this servant—"

But King Alaric interrupted, waving his hand. "Let the brat do it. It’s rare she shows any filial piety."

Defeated, Lyla had no choice but to bow and retreat, a flash of resentment in her eyes.

Serena watched Lyla’s retreating back, her eyes narrowing into slits. Her inner wolf growled low in her throat. *Something smells wrong about that one.*