Chapter Four — The Chef and The Crowned Omega
Thomas Hale did not intend to create neutral ground.
He only wanted a kitchen that ran properly.
The restaurant sat on a corner that smelled of wet stone and garlic, narrow enough to feel intimate, wide enough to breathe. It had rules—written and unwritten. No shouting. No phones at the table. No substitutions after the first bite.
Somewhere along the way, other rules attached themselves.
No weapons. No feeding. No violence.
Thomas never said them out loud.
Yet everyone followed them.
That Friday night, the room filled with familiar faces. People who booked the same table every month. People who tipped too much. People who never ordered wine.
Elara arrived late, slipping into her seat with a kiss to Thomas's cheek. She wore civilian clothes tonight. Soft. Human.
"You're busy," she murmured.
"Always," he said cheerfully. "I've got a critic in the corner who hasn't blinked once."
She glanced over. "Be nice."
"I always am."
In the kitchen, Thomas moved through heat and sound like a conductor. Plates went out flawless. Conversations hushed as food arrived.
Then the door opened.
A man staggered in, bleeding.
Every head turned.
Thomas swore under his breath. "For God's sake."
The man collapsed at the bar, eyes wild. Something dark crawled under his skin.
Elara was on her feet instantly. "Kitchen," she said softly.
Thomas obeyed without thinking.
Behind the swinging doors, Elara closed the distance between herself and the man in a heartbeat. The wolf surfaced—not fully, just enough.
"You broke the rules," she said.
"They were following me," the man gasped.
"They always are."
Thomas heard none of this. He was too busy grabbing towels, first aid kit in hand.
"I've got this," he said, kneeling. "You're safe here."
The man looked at him—and relaxed.
Outside, the room held its breath.
Elara finished it quickly. Cleanly. Blood soaked into towels that Thomas later assumed were ruined.
The body was gone before dessert.
Someone paid the bill.
Service resumed.
Later, Thomas locked up, yawning.
"Eventful night," he said.
Elara kissed him, lips lingering. "You handled it beautifully."
He smiled, proud. "Hospitality is about making people feel safe."
She watched him for a long moment.
"Yes," she said softly. "It is."