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Chapter 4

ALISHA’S POV

Lucien released his grip on my neck as suddenly as he'd grabbed me. As I gasped for breath, the overwhelming urge to leave consumed me. I needed to escape this toxic web I was entangled in. My resolve was slowly beginning to strengthen, forming a wall of succor as I tried to be strong a while long.

Camilla walked into the room. I could sense her nasty presence before I laid eyes on her. As soon as she walked in, she examined all the scattered food and broken glass lying around, and it didn't take long for her to deduce that we'd just fought.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice dripping with a fake amount of concern, pretending to care like she was a good person would.

I didn't reply. Rather, I remained silent, refusing to dignify her questions with a response.

Lucien sneered, his dark eyes gleaming with malice as he watched me stay bowed down, fighting the pain.

Camilla, undeterred by my silence, grabbed Lucien's hand and asked again, "What's going on?"

"I only want a good meal," he said offhandedly.

I almost rolled my eyes. Such lies!

"Then make him a good meal," Camilla said, turning to look at me. "I'm also hungry."

"Now, go on, make something delicious for I and Camilla. Not that trash you just served me."

I stood there, unmoving.

"I said, go and make something delicious for I and Camilla. Now!"

I clenched my hands into fists as he ordered me, his voice laced with his Alpha's commanding tone. I swear, that was all he used the tone for—to make me do what I wouldn't willingly do. I scoffed at his audacity, daring to mock him under my breath as I reluctantly made my way back to the kitchen.

With each step I took, I couldn't help but resent the situation that had brought me to this point. Cooking was once my sanctuary, a form of self-expression, but now it felt tainted by the dark cloud hanging over this house.

With the anger simmering within me, I began to cook a new meal from scratch. Alfredo pasta.

Every cut, every scoop of spice and creamy sauce, every movement was a show of defiance.

As soon as the sauce was ready, I added the last key ingredient, just for Camilla—bits and pieces of shrimps.

With a wry smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I served them the meal in the parlor since the dining was currently a mess. Then I stood by and watched Camilla eat.

As she took her first bite, her expression turned sour instantly.

"This isn't delicious," she exclaimed, disappointment evident in her voice. "And, what's this? What's in it?! Is that shrimp? I'm allergic to shrimp!" Redness began to creep from her neck to her face.

My eyes darted to Lucien, searching for any sign of support or disagreement. To my surprise, he nodded in agreement with Camilla's accusation.

He turned to me. "Camilla is allergic to shrimp. Why would you put it in her meal?"

"What? Allergic to shrimp? Is there any shrimp in there?"

"There is!"

"Oh, come on." I rolled my eyes.

So, this was how we were going to banter now?

Lucien's cold gaze fixed upon me as he spoke again, "Alisha, go back into that kitchen and cook Camilla's favorite dish."

My heart sank at his words. I shot him a look. He meant it. He really meant it. It was a moment of cruel realization to know that Lucien, who had never cared about my preferences, cared about Camilla's preferences.

I heard his demand, and instead of feeling defeated, my lips curled into a wry smile. There was a newfound strength within me, a rebellion fueled by the flames of injustice. I will no longer be a pawn in their twisted game. From this moment forward, I vowed to take control of my own destiny.

With a determined glint in my eyes, I turned away from Lucien and held my own ground.

No.

"Alisha," he said through his teeth. "Go back into that kitchen and cook Camilla's favorite dish."

Just as he tried to force me to make food once again, the door swung open, and Kane strode into the room. His presence brought a much-needed interruption to the tense atmosphere.

"Lucien," Kane called out, his voice tinged with urgency. "Something's up. A bunch of warriors and gamma are fighting in the pack house, along with a small portion of omegas. We need to do something, and fast."

My heart skipped a beat at his words. Shock washed over me as I turned to Lucien, my voice trembling as I asked the first question that came to my mind. "What have you done, Lucien?"

He frowned, refusing to answer. The truth hung heavily in the air, and I could see it in his eyes. Lucien was impulsive, and his impulsive actions had consequences. This was one of the consequences.

"He'd only imprisoned a few warriors, which had triggered the fight. That's all. Traitors, the lot of them," Kane said casually, sounding like he was trying to brush off the situation.

Anger burned within me, fueling my next question. I turned to Lucien. "Why did you imprison the warriors, Lucien?"

He ignored my question, choosing, instead, to throw it back at me. "Do I need your consent to imprison my own people?"

A bitter smile curved upon my lips. His disregard for the consequences of his actions was evident. "All these things you're doing," I said, my voice tinged with disappointment, "It's only making the pack members hate you even more."

His anger flared at my words, and he lashed out in response. "You and your family are brainwashing the wolves! This has nothing to do with me. It's all on you and your damn proud family!"

Surprise washed over me at his accusation. The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly trusted my family. Doubts and insecurities I had buried deep within resurfaced, threatening to consume me once more.

Camilla, ever the pretender, stepped forward, trying to appease both sides. But her words only fueled the fire within me.

"Was that why you arrested Calum? Was that what caused the uproar?" she asked, feigning innocence.

At the revelation that Lucien had ordered for Calum's arrest, it shattered the fragile peace I had tried to maintain.

Unable to bear it any longer, my voice broke through the tension as I called out Lucien's name, using both his given name and surname. "Lucien Hale, do you even deserve the title of Alpha?"

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