Trapped with the Alpha King-Chapter 240: The First Time

The sky was still dark when Gavriel stepped into the kitchens of the Archon’s palace of House Aetherion. Dawn had not yet broken. The halls were quiet and Melva nearly jumped when she saw him.

“Y–Your Majesty,” she blurted, bowing so quickly she almost knocked the basket in her arms to the floor.

Gavriel lifted a hand at once. “No need for that. I was looking for you.”

Melva straightened, confusion flickering across her face. “For me, sire?”

“Yes.” He glanced toward the long wooden table, already stacked with fresh bread, fruits, and herbs prepared by the night servants. “I need your help.”

Her brows knitted together. “With... what exactly?”

“Breakfast.”

Melva blinked, once. Twice. She was certain she had misheard.

“Althea’s breakfast,” Gavriel clarified, rolling up the sleeves of his dark tunic as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

Melva stared. Never in her wildest imagination had she thought she would witness the Alpha King of Lunaris standing in a kitchen before sunrise, sleeves bare, intent and serious... over a meal.

“I don’t want the servants to handle it,” he continued. “She needs something warm. Simple. Something that feels... safe.”

Melva swallowed, then nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. What would you like prepared?”

He hesitated. That alone startled her more than anything else.

“What does she like?” he asked quietly. “Before everything. Before all of this.”

Melva’s lips parted in surprise, then slowly curved into a soft smile. “She prefers light meals in the morning. Porridge with honey and berries, if available. Soft bread, lightly toasted. And warm milk. She doesn’t like it too sweet.”

Gavriel committed every word to memory.

“No meat?” he asked, already reaching for a small pot.

“Not in the mornings,” Melva replied. “She says it makes her feel heavy.”

“Hm.” He nodded once. “That sounds like her.”

Melva watched in silence as he moved with unexpected care, measuring water, stirring slowly, testing the heat with the back of his hand. He burned nothing. Spilled nothing. Every motion was deliberate, as if the meal itself mattered more than any battle plan he had ever drawn.

At one point, he frowned at the berries. “Are these too tart?”

Melva shook her head. “She likes them that way. She says sweetness should be earned.”

Gavriel let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “That does sound like her.”

When the porridge was ready, he tasted it himself, adjusted the honey by the smallest amount, then finally nodded in approval.

Melva felt her throat tighten. This was the man the world called ruthless. This was the king who had conquered packs. And yet here he was, before sunrise, preparing breakfast with the seriousness of a sacred rite.

As he arranged the tray, he spoke again, softer this time. “She doesn’t remember me yet.”

Melva lowered her gaze. “But her heart might.”

He picked up the tray carefully, as though it were something fragile and precious. “Then I’ll start here.”

He turned toward the corridor leading to Althea’s chamber.

Melva watched him go, her chest warm and aching all at once, knowing she had just witnessed something no song or history would ever record. The Alpha King, cooking for the woman he loved.

“I’m glad I managed to tell my lady every single detail I know,” Melva muttered with a hopeful sigh. “I just hope we can go home soon.”

Last night, Lady Althea had slept late, her eyes heavy but unwilling to close as she listened intently to every word Melva spoke. She never interrupted, never rushed her. She simply listened, as though trying to piece together a life that had slipped through her fingers.

So Melva told her everything she remembered.

Every moment she could recall. Every truth, no matter how painful or confusing it sounded. She spoke until her voice grew hoarse and the candles burned low, until Althea finally drifted into sleep with a quiet, thoughtful expression on her face.

Only then did Melva allow herself to breathe, hoping that somewhere between those words, Althea had found the beginning of her way back.

******

Althea stirred slowly, drifting back toward awareness as warmth surrounded her. The sheets were soft beneath her fingers, the air scented faintly with herbs and something richer, comforting.

Then she opened her eyes. Her breath caught instantly.

Gavriel’s face filled her vision, far too close, his silver eyes focused solely on her as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist. He looked startled too, as if he had been watching for the exact moment she woke.

“Good morning,” he said gently.

Althea gasped and pushed herself back against the pillows. “You scared me!”

Gavriel straightened at once, lifting his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just... wanted to make sure you woke up comfortably.”

She blinked, heart pounding, then noticed the tray beside the bed. Steam curled lazily from a bowl, the scent unmistakably warm and inviting. Bread, fruit, and something that smelled like broth or porridge. Carefully prepared and thoughtful.

“I made you breakfast,” Gavriel said, following her gaze. “It’s still warm. And I had your bath prepared as well. The water should be just right.”

Althea stared at him as if he had spoken in an unfamiliar language. “You... did all this?”

He nodded, suddenly looking far less like a feared king and more like a man unsure of his footing. “I asked Melva about what you liked. She helped. A little.”

Her brows drew together. “Have you... done this before?”

Gavriel hesitated. He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, a gesture so unexpectedly awkward that it disarmed her. “No. Not like this. This is the first time.”

“Oh.” She did not know whether to feel relieved or unsettled.

“But,” he added quickly, a small smile tugging at his lips, “I would like to do it more. In the future. If you want me to.”

Althea looked away, unsure how to respond to the sincerity in his voice. She reached for the bowl, intending to eat on her own, but before she could lift it properly, Gavriel gently caught her wrist.

“Let me,” he said softly.

Before she could protest, he shifted closer and carefully pulled her toward him. She stiffened at first, then found herself seated on his lap, his arm firm and steady around her back. The heat of him was immediate, grounding in a way she did not expect.

“What are you doing?” she asked, flustered.