Chapter 77 THAT'S AN ORDER!!

Chapter 77 THAT'S AN ORDER!!
AVRIELLE'S POV

I stayed completely still, resting on my side on the bed, watching the slow, rhythmic rising and falling of his broad chest. He had fallen asleep, his face burried against my thigh with one arm still looped loosely around my waist as if he were afraid I would vanish the moment he let go.

My fingers kept up their gentle, rhythmic motion, threading through his thick dark hair, smoothing back the strands that had fallen over his forehead during his breakdown.

I stared at his face in the soft light filtering through the high arch windows. Who would have ever thought this man—the feared Devil Alpha of the North, the ruthless warlord who made entire packs tremble with a whisper—carried so much unbearable pain behind those cold, golden eyes?

He had spent fifteen years acting like an unshakeable mountain, wearing cruelty like a suit of armor just to keep the world from reaching the soft, bleeding parts of his soul.

A faint, tender smile touched my lips.

Slowly, carefully, I slid down on the mattress, kneeling beside his sleeping frame so I wouldn't disturb his peace. I leaned in close, hovering inches above his handsome face, and playfully bit the soft tip of his nose.

"You don't look ruthless at all when you're sleeping," I whispered softly, my voice barely a breath against his skin. "I think I like you a lot more when you're asleep... you're so calm. Just like a giant child I can tease."

He didn't wake up, though a faint, barely noticeable shift smoothed out the slight crease between his dark brows.

Gently lifting his head, I slid my pillow beneath him, letting him rest comfortably in the center of the bed.

I stood up, stretching my limbs, I desperately needed to freshen up. Beyond the dirt, sweat, I was still completely bare beneath my clothing, lacking any underlying garments.

I padded quietly across the floor rugs toward the wardrobe built into the wall.

Pulling open the first panel, a warm burst of comfort washed over me. I smiled softly seeing a section of my own dresses still neatly hung in a dedicated corner—clean, pressed, and kept exactly as he had promised. I gently closed that section, moving to the main double doors that housed his wardrobe.

I reached inside, picking out a simple, oversized white button-down shirt made of silk, along with a pair of dark lounge trousers. Flipping open a lower pull-out drawer, I reached in without hesitation and grabbed a clean pair of his dark cotton boxer briefs.

A small chuckle escaped my throat. I gathered the clothes in my arms, set them down on the marble vanity table near the mirror, and turned toward the adjoining master bathroom.

The bathroom was vast, lined with polished dark granite and brass fixtures that steam had warmed to a comfortable temperature. I turned the golden handles of the deep tub, letting hot water cascade into the basin, fill the room with warmth, and drown out the heavy thoughts of the cellar below.

Stripping off the silk sheet wrapped around my shoulders, I stepped into the hot water. I reached for the bar of soap resting on the ledge—his personal soap, rich with his scent. I scrubbed my skin until it flushed pink, using his stiff-bristled body brush to wash away every lingering trace of the dust, blood, and lingering scent of the damp dungeons.

When I finally stepped out of the bath, I wrapped a thick, plush white towel tightly around my body and stood before his mirror.

I reached for his grooming supplies without a second thought. I applied his rich body lotion, smooth face oil, and a light dab of his dark sandalwood deodorant beneath my arms. To top it off, I picked up the glass bottle of his signature cologne—the sharp, intoxicating scent of frozen pine and amber—and spritzed it across my collarbones and wrists.

Picking up the clothes from the table, I slid into his dark cotton boxers. They were far too big, riding high on my waist, but the soft material felt incredibly comfortable against my skin.

I pulled on the white silk shirt, rolling the long sleeves up to my elbows, leaving the top three buttons undone. Finally, I pulled on the dark lounge trousers, drawing the inner drawstring as tight as it would go so they wouldn't slide off my hips.

Satisfied, I padded softly back into the dimly lit bedroom.

Xavier was still fast asleep, his breathing slow and deep, completely untroubled by the world. I walked over to the side of the bed, leaned down, and pressed a tender, lingering peck onto his broad forehead.

"Sleep well, Alpha," I murmured quietly.

Turning around, I unlatched the master bedroom door and stepped out into the grand hallway, descending the wide stone staircase toward the main estate floors.

The lower floor was quiet, pack servants moving efficiently through the corridors to clear away the debris of the recent battle. I had barely reached the base of the grand staircase when a familiar, frantic figure rounded the corner near the lower hall.

"Mistress!"

Elena’s voice rang out, high and tight with pure relief. Before I could even raise a hand, she sprinted across the floor and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly around the waist.

"You're okay, Mistress! Oh, praise the Moon, you're really okay!" she cried, pulling back to look at my face, her wide brown eyes scanning me from head to toe.

I laughed softly, wrapping an arm around her small shoulders. "Of course I'm okay, Elena. Stop exaggerating, I wasn't in any danger."

Elena opened her mouth to argue, but the moment she leaned in close, her nose twitched violently. She froze dead in her tracks, pulling her head back slightly, her nostrils flaring as she took a deep, deliberate sniff of the air around me.

She blinked, staring at my oversized clothes, and then looked straight into my face.

"Mistress..." Elena murmured, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. "You... you smell completely different."

I rolled my eyes, smoothing down the front of the massive white shirt. "Of course I smell different. I used that sleeping head's cologne after taking a bath in his quarters."

Elena’s jaw dropped. A slow, mischievous grin spread across her face, her eyes dancing with wicked delight.

"You're calling him 'sleeping head' now?!" Elena squealed in a hushed whisper, clapping her hands together. "And you're taking baths in his bathroom and wearing his actual cologne?! Wow, Mistress... that is a massive upgrade! I am beyond impressed! Someone is in looooove!"

My cheeks flushed instantly with hot, burning red. I lunged forward, slamming my palm flat over her big mouth to choke off her squeal.

"Clamp your lips shut right now!" I hissed, glaring at her while trying to fight off a smile. "Stop teasing me, you little brat!"

Elena giggled wildly behind my hand, nodding her head frantically until I finally released her. We both burst into a quiet, breathless chuckle, standing together in the hallway like two schoolgirls hiding from the guards.

Elena wiped a tear of laughter from her eye, but then her face turned serious again. She took another subtle step closer, her head tilting slightly as her eyes locked onto mine with sharp curiosity.

"Aside from his cologne..." Elena whispered, her voice dropping into a genuinely awed tone, "I can smell a, powerful wolf aura settling over your skin. Mistress... did you finally awaken your wolf?"

I smiled, raising an eyebrow at her keen observation. "You've got a remarkably sharp nose, Elena."

"Wow!" Elena gasped, grabbing both of my hands and bouncing on her heels with pure joy. "I am so, so happy for you! What's her name? Have you spoken to her?!"

"Her name is Elle," I replied warmly, feeling a soft, proud pulse echo from deep within my core as my wolf shifted comfortably in my mind. "And she actually asked me to say hi to you."

Elena gasped softly, pressing her hands against her chest as if she had just received a medal of honor. "Hello to you too, Elle! I am Elena, the Mistress's absolute favorite, most trusted, and personal head maid!"

I couldn't help but chuckle out loud, shaking my head at her theatrics. "You flatter yourself far too much, don't you?"

Elena pouted playfully, sticking her bottom lip out. "It's not flattering if it's the absolute truth, Mistress!"

"Right, right," I said, shaking my head with a smile. I looked down the wide hallway toward the eastern wing of the keep. "Listen, show me the way to the main kitchen. I want to cook something warm for Xavier before he wakes up."

Elena cleared her throat loudly, her eyes darting toward the ceiling with a smirking grin. "Making lunch for the big, scary Alpha now, are we..."

I instantly pointed a single, warning finger right between her eyes. "You better not finish that sentence, Elena."

Elena immediately mimicked zipping her lips shut, locking them with an imaginary key, and throwing it over her shoulder. "My lips are sealed!" she chirped cheerfully. "Follow me, I'll lead the way."

We walked down the long, arching corridor that led to the service quarters of the pack house. The air grew warmer, filled with the rich, comforting aromas of roasting meat, simmering broths, and fresh herbs.

Elena pushed open the door leading into the grand Alpha kitchen.

The kitchen was massive, lined with copper pots, stone hearths, and bustling with nearly a dozen pack cooks and prep staff.

The second the doors swung open and I stepped through the threshold wearing Xavier’s shirt and carrying his distinct, dominant scent, every single head snapped toward the entrance. Within half a second, all the kitchen staff dropped what they were doing and bowed deeply toward the floor.

"Welcome, Lady Avrielle!" they chorused in unison.
I cleared my throat, stepping further into the room.

"Who is Xavier’s private chef?"

From the far side of the prep counter, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes, graying hair pulled into a tight bun, and a pristine white apron stood up straight. She raised her hand with a rigid, formal air. "I am Chef Martha, Lady Avrielle. I handle all personal meals for Alpha Xavier."

I gave her a polite nod. "Everyone can leave the kitchen for now. I am preparing dinner for Xavier myself."

The other cooks immediately began gathering their knives and aprons to step out, but Chef Martha didn't move an inch. She stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest, looking down her nose at me with a cold, dismissive glare.

"I am sorry, Lady Avrielle," Martha said, her tone laced with a thick, stubborn edge. "But I am the only one who does his cooking. The Alpha’s diet is strictly monitored for safety and nutrition. I cannot allow anyone else to use this station."

A sudden, sharp spike of annoyance flared deep within my chest.

Elle surged forward in my mind, her dark, prideful aura rising like a cresting wave. Before I could even process the sensation, suffocating wave of pure, absolute dominance exploded out of my body, slamming into the room like a physical blow. The air in the kitchen turned icy cold, the copper pans hanging from the ceiling rattling against their hooks under the sudden pressure.

"That was an order," I growled.

My voice didn't sound like my own—it was layered with a deep, echoing resonance that rattled the stone floorboards beneath our feet.

Chef Martha gasped, her knees instantly buckling under the crushing weight of the authority rolling off me. Her face turned pale as paper, her hands trembling as she grabbed the edge of the prep counter just to keep from falling flat on her face. The other cooks gasped in sheer terror, bowing their heads so low their foreheads almost touched the floor.

Elena stepped forward, stepping right alongside me, her eyes glaring at the older woman.

"What are you waiting for?!" Elena snapped fiercely at Martha. "Are you daring to defy a direct order from the Luna now?!"

Chef Martha trembled violently, her stubborn pride completely shattered under the weight of my aura. She bowed her head until her chin hit her chest, her voice shaking uncontrollably. "I... I dare not, My Lady! Forgive me!"

Without another word, Martha turned on her heel and scrambled out of the kitchen, the rest of the cooking staff rushing out right behind her like frightened mice.

The doors slammed shut behind them, leaving the room completely quiet.

I let out a long breath, pulling my aura back inside, shaking my head in disbelief. "Audacious," I muttered under my breath.

I rolled up the oversized sleeves of Xavier’s shirt a bit higher, walking over to the central iron stove. I grabbed a large cast-iron pan from the rack, set it over the open flame, and reached for the bottle of imported olive oil resting on the spice ledge.

Elena walked over to the prep table, leaning against the edge, watching me with wide, fascinated eyes.
"Mistress..." Elena murmured softly, her voice filled with genuine wonder. "When you spoke to her just now... you emitted such a terrifying, absolute level of dominance. Do you even know what type of wolf you have?"

I paused, setting the pan down as the oil began to shimmer over the flame. I looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'what type'? A wolf is just a wolf, isn't it? Though... I suppose I've heard rumors about different classifications."

Elena shook her head vigorously, taking a step closer. "They aren't just rumors! The wolf hierarchy is real, Mistress. There are basic ranks: an Omega, an Alpha, a Beta, a Gamma, a Delta... and then there are rare, ancient ranks like an Enigma or a Pure Omega. What kind of wolf you harbor determines the ultimate role you take within a pack structure. Like... Beta Kaiden is a Beta because his wolf spirit is built for absolute strategy, loyalty, and secondary command."

I stared at her, genuinely stunned. I had lived my entire life believing that wolf ranks were simply titles given based on birthright or physical strength—that an Alpha was an Alpha simply because their father was one. I had no idea that the wolf spirit itself held distinct, terrifying classifications that dictated a person's absolute dominance.

"I didn't know that existed..." I whispered, looking down at my hands, feeling the pulse of Elle sleeping smoothly beneath my skin.

I looked back up at Elena, curiosity burning in my chest.

"So... if all those exist... what kind of a wolf am I?"