The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 51

Freya's POV

Hours later, after Kaelin had departed and Thorne had retreated to his study, I was summoned back to the kitchen to help with dinner preparations. The house had settled into a quieter rhythm, and I felt myself relaxing as I worked alongside Martha, who hummed softly as she cleaned up from the elaborate lunch.

"Was it terrible?" I asked quietly. "Serving her, I mean."

Martha's lips pressed into a thin line. "I've served worse," she said diplomatically. "Though not many who smile so sweetly while their eyes stay cold."

I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. Kaelin Brooks had perfected the art of appearing vulnerable and wounded while calculating her next move.

"Here," Martha said suddenly, pulling a covered plate from the warming drawer. "I saved this for you."

She set the plate before me, and when she removed the cover, I gasped. It was a portion of the lunch that had been served to Thorne and Kaelin—perfectly cooked steak, roasted vegetables glazed with herbs, and a side of wild rice pilaf. The food was still warm, arranged as beautifully as it had been for them.

"Martha, I can't—" I began, but she cut me off.

"You can and you will," she insisted. "Miss Brooks barely touched her food. Said she wasn't hungry. Pure waste, if you ask me."

My mouth watered at the sight and smell of the meal. It had been so long since I'd eaten food like this—food prepared with care and skill, meant for those of high status. In the Forgotten Wilds, I'd survived on whatever I could scavenge or hunt. Here at Grey Estate, until now, I'd been given only the plainest and coldest leftovers.

"Sit," Martha commanded, pulling out a chair at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. "Eat while it's still warm."

I sank into the chair, tears pricking at my eyes as I picked up the fork. "Thank you," I whispered. "I... I dreamed about food like this when I was starving in the Wilds."

Martha's expression softened. "I know, little one," she said gently. "I know."

The first bite of steak melted on my tongue, and I couldn't suppress a small moan of pleasure. The meat was perfectly seasoned, the vegetables still had a slight crunch, and the rice was fluffy and aromatic. I ate slowly, savoring each bite, trying not to embarrass myself by wolfing it down like the starving exile I had been.

"This is amazing," I said between bites. "I'd forgotten what real food tastes like."

Martha smiled, pleased by my appreciation. "Cooking for Alpha Thorne has its advantages. He insists on quality ingredients."

I was about to respond when a prickling sensation at the back of my neck made me freeze, fork halfway to my mouth. A powerful presence had entered the kitchen—one I would recognize anywhere.

"I wasn't aware the staff dined on the same menu as Alpha," a deep voice said from the doorway.

I turned slowly, my heart hammering in my chest. Thorne Grey stood there, his tall frame filling the entrance, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene before him—me, still in my gray uniform, eating from fine china at the kitchen table, while Martha stood protectively nearby.

"Alpha Thorne," Martha said, quickly bowing her head. "I apologize. Miss Brooks left most of her meal untouched, and I thought it a shame to waste such good food."

I set down my fork, swallowing hard. "It's my fault," I said quickly. "I was hungry, and when Martha offered me the leftovers, I didn't refuse." I met his gaze directly. "It has nothing to do with her. Please don't punish her for my actions."

The air in the kitchen felt charged with tension as Thorne's gaze moved from me to Martha and back again. His face remained impassive, but I could smell the sharp, spicy scent of his curiosity mixed with something darker—something that made my wolf want to either submit or run.

Martha and I both held our breath, waiting for his response. The moment stretched on, neither of us daring to break the silence that had fallen over the kitchen.

Thorne stepped into the kitchen, his expensive suit immaculate, his presence immediately making the space feel smaller. His scent—pine and leather with that distinctive Alpha musk—filled my nostrils, making my wolf stir beneath my skin.

"Grey Estate doesn't lack for meat, Miss Riley," he said quietly, his tone neither angry nor particularly kind. "You needn't scavenge like you're still in the Wilds."

Heat flooded my cheeks. Being caught stealing food—and not just any food, but Kaelin's leftovers—was mortifying. I set the fork down carefully, trying to regain some dignity.

"I apologize, Alpha Thorne," I said formally, lowering my eyes. "It won't happen again."

Thorne didn't respond immediately. Instead, he studied me, his gaze traveling over my frame in a way that made me acutely conscious of how much weight I'd lost. I remembered Dr. Maloy's diagnosis—malnutrition, exhaustion. Had Thorne discussed my condition with him in more detail? The thought of them analyzing my weakened body made me want to crawl into a hole.

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly.

The question caught me off guard. "I... had some bread this morning."

"That's not what I asked."

I swallowed hard. "Yes," I admitted. "I'd like to get some protein rather than just having bread and things like that."

Something flickered in his eyes—was it guilt? But it disappeared so quickly I might have imagined it. He gestured toward the plate.

"Finish it," he said. "Throwing away good food is wasteful."

"Martha, ensure Miss Riley eats regular meals from now on. " His eyes flicked to Martha. "I won't have staff collapsing from hunger on my property again."

Martha nodded, though I could see confusion in her eyes.

---

As soon as Thorne left, she turned to me with concern etched on her face.

"That's... unusual. Is he concerned about you?" She moved closer, lowering her voice further. "Be careful, Miss Freya. I don't understand why Alpha Thorne brought you here, but I worry he's only keeping you around to humiliate a former high-ranking Beta family."

"I don't think that's it," I said, though I wasn't entirely convinced. "He's... complicated. He hasn't used his Alpha authority to completely dominate me, at least."

Martha didn't look reassured. "Just watch yourself. The relationship between Alphas and those they've exiled is never simple." She glanced at the clock. "I need to start prep for dinner. The kitchen will be empty for about thirty minutes if you want to... make a call."

I stared at her, not understanding at first. Then she slipped her cell phone onto the counter beside me.

"Thank you," I whispered, fighting back sudden tears. Martha had always been more than just staff to my family; she was practically a second mother to me. This small act of kindness, at considerable risk to herself, meant more than she could know.

Once Martha left to gather ingredients from the cellar, I took her phone and slipped into the small staff breakroom adjacent to the kitchen. My hands trembled as I typed my brother's name into the search engine: [Ethan Riley.]

Nothing recent came up. There were a few old news articles about the Riley family scandal, mentioning that Ethan had disappeared shortly after my sentencing, but nothing to indicate where he might have gone. I tried his old number, but as expected, it had been disconnected. The automated message informed me that the number was no longer in service.

In desperation, I sent a message to our emergency contact address—a private email we'd set up years ago for family emergencies. I kept it brief:

[E, it's F. I'm back in MB. Staying at GE as staff. Need to find you. Please respond if you can.]

I had no way of knowing if Ethan still checked that account, or if he was even alive to check it. The thought made my chest tighten painfully. I deleted the sent message from Martha's phone, cleared the browser history, and returned to the kitchen just as she was coming back up from the cellar.

"Any luck?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head, returning her phone. "Thank you for trying."

She squeezed my hand briefly. "He's out there somewhere, Miss Freya. Your brother was always clever."

"I know," I said, more to convince myself than her. "He's working to clear our family name. I'm sure of it."