His Almighty Luna

11

Jade’s POV

Alpha Nicolai adjusted the cuffs of his dark shirt, his eyes sweeping over the four of us with a mixture of pity and calm composure.

"Follow me," Nicolai instructed softly, gesturing toward the heavy oak doors at the end of the hall. "Let me show you around the fortress and the grounds so you know where you will be staying."

He turned on his heel and took a few long strides toward the exit, his boots clicking against the polished stone floor. But before he reached the heavy iron doors, he suddenly paused in his tracks. He turned around, his warm gaze falling directly on little Bakito, who was still huddled on the cold floor, her small shoulders shaking as soft, muffled sobs escaped her lips.

Nicolai walked back over to her with slow, gentle steps. He squatted down in front of her frail body, extending a large, open hand toward her.

"Don't worry, little one," Nicolai murmured, his voice dropping into a soft, soothing hum. "It's going to be okay. Stop crying now. I know you miss your family deeply, but you don't need to be afraid in this house."

Bakito slowly pulled her face out of her knees, her eyes bloodshot, swollen, and overflowing with hot tears as she looked up at him. "B-but... I'm going to die here!" she gasped out, her tiny chest heaving as she hiccuped violently. "The Alpha is going to kill us!"

Nicolai let out a gentle, reassuring breath, shaking his head. "You won't die," he said softly, a small, genuine smile curving his lips. "Don't mind my brother's harsh words. You won't die—at least, certainly not today. So come on, stand up off the cold stone."

Bakito hesitated for a split second before reaching out her trembling, pale hand and placing it into his broad palm. Nicolai wrapped his fingers around hers, gently pulling her up to her feet until she was standing steadily on her own two legs.

Reaching into the front pocket of his tailored jacket, Nicolai pulled out a clean, neatly folded white cloth handkerchief. He leaned down slightly, using the soft fabric to gently dab away the hot tears streaming down Bakito's red, blotchy cheeks, wiping her face with the care of an older brother.

"You look so young," Nicolai observed softly, his brow furrowing with quiet concern as he studied her small frame. "How old are you, Bakito?"

"I... I'm sixteen," Bakito squeaked out, her voice still trembling as she sniffled into the quiet room.

Nicolai's eyes softened even further, a small sigh escaping his lips. "Don't worry, little one. Everything is going to be alright."

As he went to take her second hand to comfort her, his gaze dropped to her right palm. Bakito’s small fingers were clutched in a tight, desperate white-knuckled grip around a small, plastic medical device.

Nicolai paused, his dark eyebrows pulling together as he looked closer at the item in her hands. "Are you an asthma patient?" he asked gently.

Bakito nodded her head quickly, her tear-filled eyes wide with anxiety as she squeezed the device even tighter against her chest.

Nicolai offered her another warm, reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it at all. You will be completely fine here. And whenever your inhaler runs out, just let me know immediately, and I will personally see to it that you get a brand-new one."

Bakito bit her trembling bottom lip, looking down at the empty plastic canister in her hand. "It... it's finished already," she whispered, her voice cracking with fear. "This one is completely empty."

Without missing a beat, Nicolai straightened his tall spine and turned his head toward the heavy doors. He caught the eye of a fully armed guard standing at attention beside the entrance.

"Go get a brand-new inhaler from the infirmary immediately," Nicolai commanded, his tone instantly shifting into that of a commanding leader. "Bring it straight to the quarters where I am taking these girls."

The guard placed a hand over his chest, bowing his head respectfully. "Right away, Alpha Nicolai!" he barked out before turning on his heel and vanishing through the doors at a rapid pace.

Nicolai turned back to face the four of us, gesturing toward the open doorway with a polite wave of his hand. "Follow me," he said smoothly.

We fell into line behind him, stepping out of the grand hall and walking down a long, sprawling stone corridor lined with tall arched windows and grand tapestries. We followed him through a set of massive iron-reinforced gates that led us straight out of the fortress structure and into the open air of the main pack territory.

The moment my boots hit the outer stone path, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I stopped in my tracks for a second, my eyes wide as I took in the breathtaking view before me. The pack territory was vast, grand, and unimaginably beautiful. High stone buildings, sprawling wooden manors, and paved streets stretched out as far as the eye could see, nestled beautifully against the backdrop of towering, snow-capped mountains.

If I were to compare my home—the Crestwood Pack—to the sheer grandeur of this place, I would have to admit that my pack was small, ugly, and pathetic in comparison.

Further down the main road, the central market was buzzing with incredible energy. The marketplace was massive, packed with crowds of people moving up and down the wide stone streets. Merchants shouted out their goods, colorful stalls overflowed with fresh fruits, dark spices, fine fabrics, and forged weapons, and the lively noise of the bustling city filled the crisp mountain air.

But what stunned me the most was the sheer military presence.

Everywhere I turned my head, warriors were everywhere. Fully armored guards stood in sharp formation at every single street corner, on every bridge, along the outer stone walls, and patrolling the bustling market paths in organized squads. Their polished leather armor, heavy swords, and sharp spears gleamed under the sunlight, their eyes sharp, watchful, and completely disciplined.

Seeing this massive display of power, a cold shiver ran down my spine as the reality hit me.

Every single rumor I had ever heard about the Viper Alpha back home was completely true. His pack really was the biggest, strongest, and cleanest territory across the five realms. And his army was truly the most disciplined, most terrifying, and most numerous force in existence.

I stared at the pristine streets and the towering stone watchtowers in utter shock, my mind struggling to connect the dots.

Is it really possible?

Could the terrifying man who built this magnificent, unbeatable empire really be the same reckless monster who had been slouched on a broken throne, smoking like a desperate drug addict just a few minutes ago?