Page 23 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

The maid hesitated, holding the tray at the door. But finally, she curtsied and entered the dining room.

The door closed completely, shutting me out from that painfully warm, jealousy-inducing scene.

I stood there, fingertips white. Then I turned and walked. Out of the study, down the steps, through corridors. I didn't know where I was going. I wandered aimlessly through Reserpine's palace. Sunlight warmed my face, but my chest stayed cold.

Elena. My wolf said gently, trying to comfort me.

I forced a smile. It fell immediately. A crushing sense of helplessness flooded me. Liam, how could I get close to him? And Lucifer.

Lina. Gentle Lina, occupying the place that should have been mine.

My husband. My child. Both circling around her.

I clenched my fists, then released them.

"I won't give up," I whispered.

Chapter Six

Elena

A few nights later, I headed to the kitchen.

I'd officially started learning the ropes of Hale royalty. Had to relearn etiquette, memorize every noble family—their relationships, titles, taboos, preferences, crests, power plays, internal politics—until I knew them better than myself. The names made my head throb. Royal protocol was nothing like noble protocol. Had to move with more grace, hold tension in my body but not too much, control my breathing while looking effortlessly at ease.

My arms ached like hell. Today was the first chance I'd had to slip away.

The servants had already gone to bed, but the stove was still warm. I turned on the light and rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients. I flipped through the recipe book, frowning at what I could actually make. Finally settled on the simplest thing—meat soup. Though "simple" was a stretch. I kept worrying the meat wasn't cooked through, lifting the lid every few minutes to check, my nerves wound tight. When the aroma finally rose, I let out a heavy breath.

"Radishes—" I peeled the skin. The recipe said to cut them "medium thickness." "Medium"? What the hell did that mean? I hesitated with the knife, eventually picking out pieces that looked decent enough and dropped them in the soup. Turned it to low heat so the meat's flavor and the broth's spices could seep into the radish slices.

I cut some bread too, trimmed it to look nice, and floated it in the soup as garnish.

Done! I exhaled. The kitchen was a disaster. God, I was not cut out for cooking. But making something by hand for the man you loved—that felt like an achievement.

"You did great," my wolf murmured.

I carried the tray to the study door.

Light leaked through the gap. I stood there a moment, then knocked three times.

"Come in."

I pushed the door open. Lucifer sat behind his desk. Files stacked high, fountain pen resting beside his hand. He glanced up, pupils widening slightly, like he hadn't expected me. His gaze dropped from my face to the tray, then back to the papers.

"You're still up," I said, walking over.

Lucifer paused. "Still have work." He rubbed his temples, his other hand flipping through documents. Stubble shadowed his jaw, dark circles carved deep beneath his eyes. The exhaustion radiating off him hit me hard. I bit my lip.

I set the tray on the corner of his desk. The soup steamed, scent rolling off it in waves. Lucifer's nose twitched.

"Eat it while it's hot," I said. My heart clenched. He looked so tired.

Lucifer's fingers gripped the document.

"You don't need to do this."

His voice was tight.