The first time I cooked noodles for the psycho Alpha, I had no idea it would change everything.
Back then, I was trembling so hard that I nearly dropped the pot. The Alpha's quarters were vast and silent, filled with the heavy scent of pine and dominance. Every time I stepped inside, my body tensed like I was walking into a lion's den. But I was desperate.
I needed him to see me not as another faceless omega, not as someone he could strangle at will, but as a person. As Ellie.
So that morning, I had stood by the small stove, carefully stirring the noodles in boiling water, mixing in spices from the omega's kitchen red pepper flakes, garlic, and a splash of sesame oil I'd begged Elizabeth for.
