Chapter 7 Wrong Rumors About the Wild Beast

Giselle's POV

"Do you want to eat?"

I gazed at the succulent deer leg; my mouth watered with the desire to sink my teeth into it. However, my temptation was thwarted by the fact that the one offering it was none other than Steven.

Although he appeared harmless at the moment, I couldn't shake the memory of the blood that stained his hands after he took down the rogues.

"I am not hungry," I lied.

Steven blinked a few times. He then withdrew his hand and returned the deer leg to the plate.

I regretted declining his offer to eat it. I wondered if it was because I feared him or because of the trauma caused by my stepmother and stepsister clawing at me.

There was no point in lamenting, regardless of the answer. I had already decided to refuse the meat. And now, Steven probably ate everything.

'No! He did not!' my hungry wolf exclaimed when I saw the remaining meat on the table.

My eyes fixated on the meat, beckoning me to take a bite.

Despite my initial reluctance, my feet carried me closer to the table. Before I knew it, I stood before the tantalizing food, my mind warring with my senses.

"Steven isn't returning, is he?" I pondered aloud. With a shrug, I thought indulging in his leftovers was acceptable.

With a gulp, I seized the deer's leg. However, thunder and lightning erupted in my head after taking a small nibble.

"What on earth is this? It tasted so bad!" I exclaimed in disgust.

This meal is an absolute disaster, even worse than the leftovers I had last week!

My stepmother and stepsister have a discerning palate, but I'm unsure about Steven.

Perhaps there's something wrong with his tongue!

Despite my best efforts, I took another bite, but my stomach was not having it. The taste was so bad that I couldn't bear to eat another bite.

I carried the meat back to the kitchen and surveyed my surroundings.

"The kitchen has utensils, ingredients, and spices."

All of which I could use to enhance the flavor of the dish.

Displeased with the lackluster taste of the meat, I grumbled to myself, "He had access to all these spices and ingredients, yet he still couldn't get it right."

Of course, I wouldn't dare say this to Steven's face.

Instead, I waited until he was out of sight before taking matters into my own hands.

With a few carefully selected spices, I set to work on re-cooking the remaining meat, determined to elevate its flavor to new heights.

My stepmother hardly ever cooks; instead, she often requests that I prepare meals for the family.

Unfortunately, I am not permitted to indulge in the food I have prepared until after they have eaten their fill, leaving me with their scraps.

Despite that, I take pride in ensuring that the dishes I create are of the highest quality. Even if I can only consume their leftovers, I still relish every bite.

My father has mentioned that I have inherited my biological mother's culinary talent, which has given me the confidence to hone my cooking skills.

'It's ironic that someone who has experienced malnourishment, such as me, has developed a passion for cooking.'

"Finish!"

With a great mindset and a little extra effort, I successfully finished cooking the meat. And let me tell you; it looked even more appetizing than before! I couldn't wait to dig in and savor the flavors.

As I grabbed my fork and took my first bite of the deer meat, my taste buds were in heaven. The soft and flavorful meat melted in my mouth, leaving me seeing stars and the moon. It was truly a culinary masterpiece!

"This is so delicious!"

As my hunger grew, I continued to eat to my heart's content, completely forgetting about my surroundings.

"I felt like dying right n..."

"You're eating the meat."

"Ugh!" I choked as I was caught off guard by the sudden presence of Steven, who had appeared at the kitchen entrance with his arms crossed.

I had thoroughly enjoyed the deer leg and lost track of time!

As I gazed back and forth between the scrumptious meal and Steven's unwavering countenance, I felt like a criminal caught red-handed.

Realizing the gravity of my actions, I knew I had to make amends for my food pilfering.

"Please forgive me," I pleaded. "I was famished, and I couldn't resist..."

But before I could finish my sentence, Steven interrupted with a pointed question.

"What have you done to the meat?" he inquired.