The King's Prey (Unedited Edition)

Chapter 13 : Friction

Enigma • [en-nig-ma]
A person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand.

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I finally wake when the white light beaming through my window becomes too much to bear. Groggily, I rub my sleepy eyes with my only good hand as they readjust to my still unfamiliar surroundings.

For the first time in four nights, I didn't wake up to the weird sensation of someone watching me sleep. I can't tell if that's something I should be relieved or worried about. Either way, it means I slept more soundly—other than the horrific nightmare.

But the nightmares aren't new. I've dreamt of beasts ripping into my family, my friends, and now—apparently—me.

My broken hand begins throbbing again as soon as I sit up and I attempt to stifle a groan. Getting up from the plush bed, I make my way to the bathroom and get myself together. From the selection in my closet, I choose a pair of jeans and a loose long-sleeve.

Other than having to be Samuel's personal chef, I have no clue how I'm going to preoccupy the rest of my time. He did mention I'm free to roam his house, and while it's humongous in size, he also mentioned how I can't be in a room with a door but my own—which is practically every room I desperately want to explore.

Exiting the bathroom, my eyes fall back onto those cookbooks. I didn't bother reading through their recipes last night since by the time I got to my room I practically crashed on the bed. Who knew that a short walk outside would knock the energy out of me.

I annoyingly grab one of the covers and plop down on my bed as I begin to flip through its pages. I guess I'll be stuck reading recipes for the rest of my life.

***

The hours pass and soon enough it's late in the evening. At some point, I move my reading to the downstairs living room. I'm thankful that they've stopped locking me in my room, but my extended leash still only goes so far. Being stuck in a damn house, I would argue, is much worse. Despite my complaining though, the words that Liam and Samuel had said to me still ring through my mind.

You're lucky.

I want to laugh at the sound of them. Being turned into a cook for the alpha of a wolf pack doesn't sound very lucky at all. But I have to remind myself I don't have much of a choice.

Not having much of an appetite after last night, I only snack on fruits and other various things from Samuel's pantry to suffice for whatever minimal hunger arises throughout the day.

The house is empty for the entire day unless Samuel's just very good at hiding in his study. At one point in time, I find myself staring out of that glass sliding door, contemplating how easily I could escape. I have to push the thought down though, only because it would be idiotic to go out there without so much as a plan.

Six in the evening rolls around faster than I wanted, but I decide to begin prepping for Samuel's dinner. I picked something simple—a pasta dish with meat, red sauce, and vegetables.

When I open the large fridge, I find that Samuel wasn't kidding. There's practically every ingredient in here. I grab everything I need as I begin my culinary assignment.

Cooking turns out to be more enjoyable than I anticipated—and a great distraction, too. The dinner I selected doesn't take me long to make. Maneuvering around the kitchen is difficult at first, but I slowly get the hang of memorizing what's in certain drawers around the space. I manage pretty well for a person with a broken hand.