His Almighty Luna

7

Jade’s POV

Alpha Lucien stood directly in front of me, his tall frame blocking out the light in the room. He didn't move a single muscle, just staring down into my face with an intense, unreadable expression. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, tracing every single inch of my features as if he were frantically searching for a hidden clue—a forgotten memory, a secret mark, or something buried deep within my eyes.

I couldn't bear to hold his gaze. I dropped my head, my eyes gluing themselves to the cold stone floor beneath my slippers. Every breath I took felt heavy and suffocating.

How could anyone speak such vile, heartless words?

He had just casually informed me that I was nothing more than a commodity—a disposable piece of meat he intended to break, use whenever he saw fit, and throw away to die. It was sickening. My father had painted him as a merciless monster, but hearing those cruel words roll off his tongue in that deep, gravelly voice made the terrifying reality sink in. Being handed over to this man wasn't just a punishment; it was a slow, agonizing execution.

A sharp, painful lump formed in my throat as regret washed over my soul. A wave of bitter self-loathing hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.

I should have gone with him.

If I hadn't been so foolish, so terrified, and so hesitant in the woods last night, I would be safe in the arms of my mate right now. He had held me with such intense passion, wiped away my tears, and promised to protect me with the last drop of his blood. Leaving his side was, without a single doubt, the absolute biggest mistake of my entire life.

I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the fresh burn of tears. I couldn't afford to break down now. I had to endure this. I had to stay alive through whatever nightmares this palace threw at me, just long enough to find a way out. I had to survive so I could search for my mate—the man whose warm, pine-scented shirt was still wrapped beneath my heavy dress, the only thing keeping my spirit from shattering completely. I could never accept this monster as my master. I hated Alpha Lucien with every single fiber of my being.

Breaking the heavy silence, Lucien suddenly turned his head toward my father. His dark eyes flicked over Alpha Vincenzo with utter disgust, his lips curling into a cold sneer.

"What are you still standing there for?" Lucien growled, his voice vibrating off the high stone walls like distant thunder. "Get out."

My father, the proud and terrifying Alpha of the Crestwood Pack who had beaten me without mercy just hours ago, didn't utter a single word of protest. His eyes widened slightly in fear, his jaw tightening as he folded his hands in front of him, trying his best to look completely innocent and compliant. Without making a sound, my father bowed his head, turned on his heel, and walked out of the grand hall like a kicked dog.

Watching my father suffer such total humiliation brought a tiny, fleeting flicker of satisfaction to my chest. He had treated me like trash my entire life, and seeing him cower before a stronger Alpha felt like a tiny drop of justice. But the feeling evaporated as quickly as it came. Deep down, I knew the grim truth: whatever humiliation my father had just experienced was nothing compared to the nightmare waiting for me in this fortress.

Lucien ignored me completely as he turned around and strode toward the raised dais at the end of the room. He sank heavily onto his carved obsidian throne, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a dark pack of cigarettes along with a silver lighter.

He flicked the lighter open, the tiny flame illuminating the harsh, sharp angles of his face as he lit the tip and took a long, deep drag. Gray smoke curled from his lips, rising slowly toward the vaulted ceiling.

That was when my eyes drifted over his clothing, and a cold shiver ran down my spine.

Beneath his dark, unbuttoned leather jacket, Lucien wore a shirt made of thin, almost entirely transparent mesh fabric. Through the sheer material, I could clearly see his bare skin—and my breath caught in my throat. Every single inch of his broad chest, his carved abdomen, and his powerful arms was covered in dark, intricate tattoos. Jagged runes, vicious wolf claws, swirling shadows, and ancient symbols twisted across his flesh like living ink, stretching around his sides and disappearing over his shoulders.

I stared in utter disbelief, my mind struggling to process the sight. This man is completely insane. Who in their right mind covers their entire torso in dark ink like that? He didn't look like an Alpha or a nobleman at all; he looked like the terrifying leader of a ruthless rogue syndicate. The dark ink, paired with his colossal height and lethal aura, made him look infinitely more dangerous than any rumor I had ever heard back at home. "Monster" felt like too weak of a word to describe the creature sitting on that throne.

I remained frozen near the center of the hall, my body rigid as I watched him in complete silence.

Lucien didn't say a word to me. He simply leaned his head back against the stone throne, blowing out steady streams of thick, gray smoke as he stared blankly at the high ceiling. He finished the first cigarette, crushed the glowing butt against the armrest, and immediately lit a second one.

The heavy, tense silence stretched on for what felt like hours, broken only by the soft hiss of his breathing and the crackle of burning tobacco. My anxiety spiked higher with every second that passed. My hands began to shake violently, my pulse hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I couldn't just stand here like a statue forever, waiting for him to decide how to torture me.

As he finished his second stick and reached into the pack to pull out a third, I gathered every single drop of courage left in my bruised body.

"What... what do I do?" I stammered, my voice cracking softly in the vast room.

Lucien didn't even flinch. He didn't turn his head, he didn't look at me, and he didn't bother to answer. He simply struck the silver lighter again, bringing the flame to the tip of his third cigarette as if I didn't even exist.

Before I could open my mouth to speak again, a loud, heavy metallic thud echoed through the hall.

The massive iron gates at the entrance swung wide open. Heavy footsteps echoed off the stone floor as a squad of fully armed guards marched into the room, dragging three young girls behind them.

The girls stumbled blindly into the light, their wrists and ankles bound in thick, heavy iron chains that rattled loudly with every terrified step they took.