The Alpha’s Ultimate Command: Rise of the Invisible Luna

CHAPTER 6 — THE VELVET MASK

CHAPTER 6 — THE VELVET MASK

The heavy velvet drapes pulled tight around the Alpha’s private chambers kept out the dying evening chill, but the ambient light filtered between them, bathing the smooth wooden floorboards in an amber hue. In the centre of the expansive, overstuffed room stood Elena; still as a statue. With a trembling hand, she raised a finger to trace the luxurious fabric of the dress laying on top of the silk bedspread – less than an hour ago, it was a gift from Kaelen, their Alpha.

Her fingers only ever knew the coarse rough cotton of the slaves, the thick, scratchy wool of a un-shifted defect’s tunic to sweep the ashes from the hearths of the pack-house.

But this dress… this dress was something entirely else. Fashioned from night black velvet that flowed into the most regal of deep crimson silks across her shoulders, and laced up the front; the very exact colours that comprised the Bloodmoon pack historical wear. Slipping this garment on felt less like dressing like a guest and more like putting on the history of the north’s most fearsome pack. Elena made a conscious effort to unhook the clasp on her coarse tunic and slipped it down her slender form; allowing it to bunch around her ankles along with the rest of her damp, plain attire.

When she slipped into the crimson silk, a jolt of energy zipped up her spine – a ghostly tremor from the phantom pulsing of the mate-bond all around the room.

It fitted to her willowy form and then cascaded around her in a symphony of lavish folds and pleats that rustled softly at her ankles with every shallow breath. Elena glided across the floor and to one of the far corners of the room, to the gilt-edged, full length mirror. She gazed at herself for a moment, her heart drumming out a wild, uneven rhythm against her ribs.

Staring back at her was a girl barely recognisable; her habitually ringed, shadowed eyes- dimmed by a life spent catering to the demands of Chloe and the senior elders - brightened and softened with the glow from the fire. Her hair - always unruly, and forever in a tight bun- now laid in thick, waves around her shoulders. But it wasn't the dress that caught her eye, not really.

It was the depths of her own dark eyes staring back from under a veil of fear, with a startling stillness that was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

The nineteen years of meek, compliant, servant Elena seemed to have vanished and in her place stood hard steel and an unwavering resolve. For the first time, she didn't look like a trespasser in a den of wolves. She looked like a queen on a battlefield. She looked like a Luna.

The sharp click of the door latch sent a involuntary twitch to her shoulders, but before her accustomed ripple of unease set in, the room was invaded by a biting wave of cold, winter air accompanied by the unmistakable scents of sharp mint and rich cedarwood.

Kaelen. He entered, clad for formal council: a tailored, black leather tunic fit snugly against his broad, muscled chest with silver insignia of the Supreme Leader shining brightly at his throat. He halted dead as he saw her beside the mirror.

He drew in a sharp gasp of breath as the intense, vibrating electricity between them nearly knocked him from his feet. Elena watched his jaw tighten so hard that the muscle in his cheek twitched visibly beneath the pale scar. His dark eyes flared a furious, golden colour.

His wolf was on the precipice of devouring him whole, possessively greedy to feast its eyes upon its mate dressed in the colours of his pack.

“Beautiful,” Kaelen growled, a low husky vibration deep in his chest that sent a scorching heat straight down Elena’s spine. He strode the few feet between them, the large floorboards creaking under his seven-foot frame and his heavy boots. Standing inches behind her, his immense body effectively blocked the firelight out completely, casting a large and protecting shadow over Elena’s slender form.

Elena and Kaelen in the mirror presented such a contrasting image – the cold calculating hunter from the north and the girl who had never known the pull of a shift, but the desperate devotion glowing in Kaelen’s golden eyes was not something she was sure Elena could ever shake.

“You wear these colours far better than I ever could have imagined, little wolf,” Kaelen whispered, his gravelly voice intended only for Elena. Elena swallowed hard and tugged on a fold of her crimson dress. “I feel… out of place, Kaelen. The elders, the warriors… They’ll view this as some kind of joke, won’t they?

They know what I am – they know I’m nothing but some… servant girl to them.”

“Let them see,” he commanded with absolute authority that no one would dare question. “Let them see what I will make them see. Anyone who fails to will answer to my claws.”

He reached inside a black leather pouch secured to his belt and pulled out a heavy and gleaming object. Elena’s breath caught in her throat. It was an intricately detailed thick necklace made from polished obsidian silver and inscribed with ancient protective runes and a blood-red uncut ruby in its center.

The blood-red ruby ruby that had decorated the Bloodmoon Luna crest ever since Kaelen’s mother had passed many years ago.

Kaelen closed the few feet between them and reached into Elena’s hair, his large and calloused fingers surprisingly gentle as they pushed back the dark strands from her neck. His bare skin was hot, radiating so much heat that she squeezed her eyelids tightly shut as his fingers lightly touched the skin just below her ear. As the cool and heavy necklace fell around Elena’s collarbone, Kaelen lowered his head and planted a firm and possessive kiss on her neck just beneath her ear, a soft gasp escaping her. “This was worn by the first female to tame this untamed territory,” Kaelen whispered against Elena’s skin.

“It is yours now.

Wear it not as an ornament, Elena, but as the crown it is. Let them see the woman I want.” Elena took a steadying breath and opened her eyes to look back into the mirror once more.

The knot of anxiety in her stomach began to ease as the warmth of Kaelen’s touch soothed the knotting feeling in her stomach. Turning in his embrace to face him, Elena rested her hands flat on the hard wall of his chest. She looked up into Kaelen’s fierce golden eyes and nodded with conviction.

“I’m ready,” she breathed, a newfound strength resonating through her voice.

The long and empty stone corridors of the pack’s main estate somehow felt wider this night, the flags beneath Elena’s boots echoed a slightly different rhythm, and the grip of Kaelen’s hand was firmly entwined with hers, his steel like grip an unbreakable shield against the world around her. Every guard along the corridor immediately snapped to attention, heads bowing in respectful reverence to the alpha, even though Elena felt their inquisitive scents press in. Elena ignored the scent and focused her attention on the two grand double doors at the far end of the hallway. A low rumble from beyond the thick oak doors of the Great Dining Hall grew into a roar of thousands of talking and laughing pack members.

This was a night for celebrating, a night of victory for Bloodmoon warriors who hadn’t been defeated in three years.

Elena’s chest tightened one last time, the knot of fear and doubt in her stomach tightening into a hard ball. Kaelen stopped before the double doors and turned to face her, a determined look fixed on his stern features. Without uttering a single word, he squeezed her hand tightly, his thumb stroking back and forth on the back of her wrist where the warmth of their shared bond was located, chasing away the cold and sparking a burst of adrenaline.

The two elite guards positioned at the entrance simultaneously snapped to attention, and flung open the heavy oak doors before them. The deafening roaring in the Great Hall ceased entirely. Not softened, not reduced-gone.

A sudden, absolute silence fell upon the vast and cavernous Hall.

The room was colossal and filled with more than a thousand pack members, elders, and northern warriors packed together at long wooden tables stretching into two aisles that seemed to go on forever. Candles dripped from high chandeliers, casting flickering light on the pale stone walls. And every single eye in the room was now fixed directly on Elena. The air in the Hall became so thick it felt like a physical presence, dense with resentment, shock, and an overwhelming amount of questions.

Holding her head high and her back straight, Elena looked straight ahead as Kaelen began to guide her down the center aisle.

The acrid scent of raw envy hit her heighten senses as Chloe glanced her way. Her rival sat close to the front table, her knuckles bone white as they gripped the wooden edge of the table, her expression one of disbelief, utter horror, and hatred. Beside her, Elena’s father, the pack Beta, stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a sneer of disdain curled on his lips in the direction of his only daughter.

They had been expecting a quivering, hiding, possibly even rags-clothed servant. Instead, they got Elena walking beside the Alpha King. Kaelen paid no attention to the resentful and judging eyes of his pack.

His gait was strong, dominant, and slow; each heavy boot tread upon the stone floor a steady, rhythmic drum beat as he pulled her along beside him.

He never once let go of Elena’s hand, making a statement to every single wolf in the Great Hall about the dominance and importance of Kaelen and his unshifted mate, pulling her forward past rows of slack-jawed warriors towards the raised dais at the front of the Hall.