COOK ME INSTEAD

FIBI'S POV 

The kitchen maid was shedding heavy tears when she ran back to me.

“Jill! What happened? What did he do to you?” I inquired. My alarm was evident in my tone.

The girl hiccuped when she tried to talk. She was not calm enough to explain anything. However when I took a closer look at her apron, I saw for myself what my so-called husband did to her. I narrowed my eyes.

“Alpha King Diego did this?” I went ahead to ask, though the question was unnecessary.

Jill nodded, still sobbing. I fought to retain calmness in my body as I collected the dishes she still held. They were empty now, their hot content plastered to her apron. What sort of a person would pour soup that was piping hot on another person, an innocent kitchen maid for that matter?

I had directed Jill on what herbs to use in making soup for Diego, the herbs that would set him on the path of healing. I even baked his bread myself. Then I instructed Jill to take the food to him in his office, where he now spent the larger part of his days.

Only for Jill to return like this. “Sit down.” I encouraged her, while I examined her upper legs to see if the soup scalded her. Thankfully, her apron and thick dress had prevented the equally thick broth from passing through to her skin.

Still, I could imagine how agonizing the pain would have been when he splashed her. 

“I'm sorry, Jill. I should never have sent you. Go wash up and change, we'll make another one. This time, I'll take it to him myself.”

I fumed as I got the ingredients ready for a second cooking session. “Monstrous alpha, beast, cruel king…” I seethed with fury, calling him any and every bad name I could think of.

My fear of him had already changed into anger after I saw how he was putting his mother through hell with his childish behavior. Yes, childish. Because to me, he was beginning to look like a spoilt brat throwing tantrums.

I had to stop badmouthing him when Jill returned, but I was bursting with unexpressed emotions. Maybe I'll have the opportunity to vent when I take the food to him. Let him just try and refuse it, I'll pour it down his throat if necessary. He can then go ahead and kill me after that.

We finished preparing the meal and I dished it out. With my back straight, head held high, and jaws set, I made my way to his hideout.

His office door was locked from within. I gave a humorless chuckle and knocked loudly.

“Who are you?” His voice boomed.

“It's me, Fibi.”

“Go away.” He said simply.

There was no way in hell he could get rid of me so easily. I knocked louder.

“I said ‘go away’!” He emphasized.

I just kept knocking, louder and louder each time. 

When he yanked the door open, his face as red as tomatoes, I smiled in victory. I didn't even wait for him to talk or do anything rash. I quickly slipped in.

I took the food to the only table in the room, clearing the piles of paper to one side.

“If you really need someone to cook, cook me instead of some poor maid. Maybe you're actually a cannibal that wants to eat other wolves instead of actual food.” I threw out, challenging him first.

“How dare you?” He began, but I cut him off.

“How dare I what? How dare I cook for you? I'm your wife, so as much as I hate it, you have become my responsibility. How dare I talk to you the way I did? You deserve more than that for what you did to Jill? Even if everyone out there calls you mad, it doesn't mean you have to prove them right!” I yelled.

His mouth just hanged open, so I continued giving him a piece of my mind. “Do you think I would even be here if not for your mother? She's the only one I care about and you have caused her enough pain.” 

My annoyance gave me enough courage by now to move closer to him. I jabbed a finger at his chest. “You will eat what is needed and follow all the doctor's instructions. You will get better, at least physically. You will walk again, as Mother believes you can.”

He sneered. “That's it then. Despite all the wealth you suddenly find around you, you're ashamed to be married to a cripple. You wish I could walk again, so you can have it all, right?”

Is that what he thought of me? What is my business with whether he can use his legs or not? I didn't even ask to be married to him!

“You think I'm so shallow? You're the one seeing your wheelchair in every situation, not me. That's why you're going around, showing your muscles everywhere to prove your manliness and kingship. And what did you get from that? A reputation of madness.” I retorted.

I guess I overdid it. With blinding speed, he held me by the throat and jerked me up against the wall. I gagged.

He smirked. “Not so mouthy now, are you?”