Free Web NovelChapter 30: TRASH
Trishelle
Sleep eluded Trishelle. The mattress felt like a bed of nails beneath her restless body, and every time she closed her eyes, vivid images assaulted her - Sammy’s fists flying through the air, the crimson blood streaming down James’s face. She knew they were holding Sammy in the pack’s prison, a cold, stone building that crouched at the edge of their territory like a forgotten tomb. The thought made her stomach clench with fear. She was certain that without the timely appearance of the visitors, he could have faced banishment or even execution. The Alpha had every right to demand either punishment for such an attack.
After tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, she gave up on sleep entirely and decided to visit the cells. Perhaps, if luck favored her, she could see him. She needed to confirm with her own eyes that he was alive, that he was okay, that he hadn’t been beaten too severely for his rash defense of her honor.
Moving silently through the dark, empty kitchen, she gathered the remaining baked goods she had prepared earlier, tucking them carefully into a small wicker basket. The offering seemed pathetic - a meager bribe at best - but it was all she had to bargain with. After retrieving Sammy’s worn leather jacket from the hook by the back door, she slipped into the night. The cool air raised goosebumps along her arms, and she pulled her thin cardigan tighter around her shoulders as she made her way toward the prison.
"Halt, who goes there?" The guards on duty materialized from the shadows, their voices harsh and unwelcoming. They had already caught her scent on the wind and had mind-linked the Alpha immediately. James had given them permission to let her see her friend, but with strict orders to make it seem difficult at first - to maintain the appearance of proper protocol.
Trishelle, unknowingly playing her part in their little charade, offered up her basket of goodies like a nervous Little Red Riding Hood approaching the wolf’s den. Her hands trembled slightly as she extended it toward them. "Please, I just... I wanted to bring him something. To make sure he’s all right."
One guard sighed heavily, as if greatly inconvenienced, and took the basket from her shaking hands. He rifled through it with deliberate slowness, examining each item before nodding curtly. "Five minutes. And don’t touch anything. Don’t pass anything through the bars."
When they finally allowed her entry, she rushed down the dim corridor to Sammy’s cell, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The sight that greeted her was heart-wrenching. Her friend sat slumped against the far wall, his face a canvas of purple and yellow bruises, white bandages wrapped around his ribs and one arm. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them. She dropped to her knees on the filthy ground, her hands wrapping desperately around the cold iron bars. "Oh, Samuel, why did you attack the Alpha? It wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t worth it."
The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but she believed them. She had never been worth the trouble she caused. freewebnovel.cσ๓
Sammy’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice. Shock registered across his battered features when he saw his friend there, kneeling on the dirty floor, crying for him. Despite his injuries, he managed a crooked smile. "Hey now, get up," he said, his voice rough and strained. "That bastard deserved it, and even more for taking what wasn’t his." He reached through the bars with his uninjured hand, gently wiping her wet cheeks with his thumb. His touch was tender despite the anger still simmering in his eyes. "How could I just let anyone do something like that to my Rosebud and not do something about it? Hmm? How would I have faced Rosie in the afterlife if I let that go unpunished? Your mother would have haunted me for eternity."
The mention of her mother made fresh tears well up in Trishelle’s eyes. "And what would happen to me if you went there before you should?" she shot back, her voice thick with emotion and fear. "Did you think about that? Sammy, he could have killed you right there in front of everyone. Then I would have been truly alone in this world. Completely alone."
The thought terrified her more than anything else. Sammy was her last connection to her parents, to happier times, to the girl she used to be before the pack had ground her down into nothing.
Sammy’s expression softened with remorse. He covered her cold hands where they gripped the bars of his cell, his larger hands warm despite the chill of the prison. "I’m sorry, Trish. I guess I didn’t think about that part. I just saw red when I realized what he’d done to you." He squeezed her fingers gently. "I promise that from now on, I won’t let my feelings cause you to hurt like this. I’ll be smarter about it. Okay?"
Trishelle nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced he could keep that promise. Sammy had always been protective, sometimes recklessly so. She slowly rose to her feet at the shuffling sound behind her - the guards signaling that her time was up. Taking a small wrapped bundle from Sammy’s jacket pocket, she passed it to him through the bars when the guards weren’t looking directly. Inside were some of the scones she had made, his favorites with dried cranberries. She reached through one last time to caress his bruised cheek, her touch feather-light to avoid causing him pain, giving him a sad smile before turning to leave.
As she walked away, she could only hope that things would improve tomorrow, though hope had become a scarce commodity in her life.
Bradley
The next morning arrived with a flurry of activity for Trishelle. The visitors were to dine with the pack at the Alpha’s table in the main hall, which meant the meal needed to be nothing short of perfect. This also meant she might be required to serve more people than usual, though perhaps - if fortune smiled upon her - she would be spared from serving as she had been yesterday. The menu James had demanded was massive and ambitious: homemade bread still warm from the oven, perfectly golden toast, decadent French toast dusted with powdered sugar, crispy bacon, scrambled and fried eggs cooked to order, fresh salads with seasonal greens, orange and pineapple juices freshly squeezed, creamy oatmeal with various toppings, and an array of homemade jams in jewel-bright colors. Coffee and tea, of course, were essential. The sheer volume of food required would have been overwhelming for one person.
Thankfully, two other omegas had been assigned to assist her. Trishelle oversaw everything, coordinating the preparation and giving the final taste check to each dish. The help was greatly appreciated, and she strategically had them doing most of the prep work and the cleaning while she handled the actual cooking, keeping herself out of sight as much as possible. She had no desire to draw attention to herself, especially not from the Alpha after yesterday’s humiliation.
Everything was laid out in gleaming warmers by the time the guests arrived, and it seemed as though everyone in the pack was on their best behavior. She wasn’t sure if it was a direct order from the Alpha, but even as an omega with limited senses, Trishelle could detect that there was a powerful aura permeating the house - even stronger than that of a typical Alpha. The pressure of it made her wolf want to submit immediately. Mixed with it was a pleasant scent, almost like an expensive cologne - pine trees and something wilder, more primal. She simply shrugged and assumed it belonged to one of the distinguished guests. Like yesterday, she was asked not to serve and was more than happy to comply with that particular order.
Taking advantage of this reprieve, she grabbed herself a small plate of breakfast - just some eggs and toast, nothing that would be missed - and packed another generous portion to take to her friend in the cells.
Alpha Bradley sat to the left of the Alpha of Bloodmoon, opposite James’s Beta, Juda, who occupied the seat on his right. Next to Juda sat Councilwoman Seers, her sharp eyes taking in everything, followed by Alexa and his own Beta, Sam. An impressive assortment of dishes covered the table, and Bradley decided to serve himself rather than wait for others to do it, much to the visible surprise of many of the Bloodmoon members, who clearly expected to be waited upon hand and foot.
Excusing himself from the table with easy grace, he grabbed a plate. Sam followed his Alpha’s lead, and soon the councilwoman and Alexa did the same. It was difficult for Bradley to choose what to eat when everything looked and smelled so appealing, so he decided to simply take a bit of everything. Thank goodness werewolves burned calories at an extraordinary rate, so his overflowing plate wouldn’t be a problem. His wolf was practically purring with contentment at the scents wafting from the food.
Seating himself once more, he hoped fervently that whoever had prepared this meal was the same person from the previous evening, and he was not disappointed. The taste of home seemed even stronger this morning - that inexplicable sense of rightness and comfort he’d been chasing for years. It took all of his considerable willpower not to simply barge into the kitchen and demand that the chef return home with him immediately. His wolf was becoming increasingly insistent about finding the source of these meals.
"Alpha Bradley, it seems that once again you’re thoroughly enjoying your meal," James observed, pleased at the way things were progressing. The visiting Alpha’s obvious appreciation of their hospitality reflected well on the Bloodmoon pack.
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Bradley quickly chewed and swallowed before answering, mindful of proper etiquette. "Yes, Alpha James. Surely your chef is beyond measure. Their skill is extraordinary." He paused, taking a sip of coffee before continuing. "I’m surprised that with such culinary talents at your disposal, your pack members aren’t all looking like furry snowmen. Didn’t you mention that I could meet this talented individual this morning?"
"That’s absolutely true. I did promise you that." James waved an omega over with an imperious gesture. "Please bring our chef here immediately."
"You want me to bring that ’trash’ here? To the Alpha’s table?" the omega sneered, her eyes flicking toward the kitchen where she assumed Trishelle might be hiding. The contempt in her voice was unmistakable.
James growled, a low, dangerous sound that rumbled from deep in his chest. Several pack members nearby flinched at the warning. "I’ve already told you multiple times to call her by her proper name. Now, if you don’t want to join her friend in the cells for insubordination, I suggest you bring her here. Immediately."
The omega paled dramatically, all the color draining from her face, and nodded frantically before scurrying off toward the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later, noticeably alone and minus Trishelle. Her hands twisted nervously in front of her. "Alpha... she’s not there."
"Are you deaf as well as disrespectful?" James snarled, his patience evaporating.
Councilwoman Seers observed the exchange with keen interest, her expression carefully unreadable. She had been hearing disturbing rumors about how things were managed in this pack, and she wanted to verify the truth for herself. This interaction was already proving enlightening.
"What could possibly be so difficult about telling someone their Alpha is calling them?" James continued, his voice rising with frustration.
The omega bowed her head submissively, her voice trembling with genuine fear. "I’m sorry, Alpha, but she’s not in the kitchen, her room, or even in the kitchen gardens. I checked everywhere I could think of."
A small, uncomfortable feeling of dread began to stir in James’s chest, coiling like a snake. He opened his mind-link to ask if anyone had seen her or knew where she might be. There were many swift denials until one of the warriors on prison duty confirmed that she had visited the imprisoned omega earlier that morning, bringing him food.
James sighed in relief, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. Thanking the warrior, he closed the link and turned back to his guests with an apologetic smile. "I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that she is such a caring soul that she went to visit her friend who was imprisoned yesterday. She’s probably still there, ensuring he’s comfortable." ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
"Is that the one who attacked you?" Bradley asked, his interest clearly piqued. There was something in his tone that suggested more than casual curiosity.
"Yes, the very same individual. They have been close friends since childhood, practically inseparable." James took a measured sip of his coffee, choosing his words carefully. "It must be very difficult for them both since that omega was personally hand-picked by the Gamma and usually works outside of the pack territory. Because of this unusual arrangement, they hardly spend any time together anymore. Yesterday’s incident was unfortunate."
He paused, setting down his cup with deliberate care. "It’s all just a misunderstanding, really. One that I had aimed to rectify upon my return from Alpha business, but things didn’t go as planned." The explanation was flimsy at best, but everyone at the table nodded politely, accepting it at face value.
"Well then, Alpha James," Bradley said, setting his fork down with a soft clink against the fine china. "I noticed that he held his own remarkably well in the fight yesterday, showing both skill and courage. I would very much like to chat with him if you wouldn’t mind arranging it. Also, my Beta has expressed his strong desire to spar with him as well." Sam nodded enthusiastically from across the table.
"Of course, I don’t mind at all, Alpha Bradley. In fact, let’s head over there right after we finish breakfast." James had an urgent, almost desperate need to see Trishelle, as the feeling of dread still lingered in his gut like a stone. What if she had taken this opportunity to run away? What if she had finally decided she’d had enough and fled during the night? The thought made his wolf restless and agitated.
"I like the sound of that very much," Bradley agreed, his blue eyes gleaming with anticipation. Something told him this visit to the prison would prove more interesting than a simple conversation with a warrior.
