Chapter 153
Third Person’s POV
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Adelaide deliberately released pheromones that enhanced the sense of smell, causing the guests to catch a faint whiff of decay.
Wasn’t everyone here to be gossip fodder?
She’d give them a juicy story–one that Madison knew all too well.
Madison wouldn’t dare investigate. The truth would surface otherwise.
Royal regulations prohibit wolf packs from harming or striking breeders or omegas.
Adelaide had been unaware of these rules until Valentine subtly alerted her as she was leaving today.
With those words left hanging, she walked away, ignoring Madison’s furious roars. The confrontation was
over.
Rosemary was dumbstruck. She’d never seen such a sharp–tongued Adelaide.
Or perhaps she’d never seen the real Adelaide–the one who’d cared for her was a different person altogether.
How could someone so proud and capable be willing to tend to her?
She didn’t understand, but somehow she did.
And the realization made her feel worse by comparison.
Priscilla was even more shocked.
Her horrified gaze followed Adelaide’s retreating figure until it vanished.
Her heart felt like a drum in her chest, with every bone in her body banging on it, creating a roaring sound that left her ears ringing.
But this sense of utter catharsis was like nothing she’d ever felt before!
The enemy she’d never been able to defeat was now forever at a disadvantage before Madison and her daughter–all thanks to Adelaide’s sharp tongue.
Madison’s composure had shattered in a way she’d never seen. Oh, how satisfying this was!
While she hadn’t initially approved of Adelaide becoming Lance’s mate, she now had to admit that it might not be so bad after all, right?
No, she couldn’t let herself think further. Adelaide still wasn’t good enough for Lance.
Adelaide left, and Lance followed soon after.
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Chapter 153
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News of their partnership spread quickly through the courtyard. Royal family members and Royal Elder Council members learned of Lance and Adelaide’s upcoming bond.
Men and women think differently.
They focus on practical benefits.
Who was Adelaide?
Adelaide was Alpha Bentley’s daughter, backed by the Frostfang Pack. She trained at the Warscar Training Camp, where Craig, her schoolmate, was a renowned figure.
The camp’s founder was once the mightiest werewolf general, and its current principal was his descendant.
All wolf packs in the Shadow Peaks and surrounding kingdoms hold the camp in high regard.
The family’s accumulated wealth over generations was immense.
But wealth wasn’t the main draw–it was the camp’s influence.
Such an elite group was sought after for alliances, let alone marriages.
Moreover, Adelaide was a hero of the Southern Border reclamation and the first female Gamma in the werewolf kingdom.
With all this, her past relationships were irrelevant.
Adelaide and Lance met at the door. Lance’s amber eyes, glowing in the sunset, noted her silver–tipped ears trembling with residual anger, yet she still held herself upright as the Frostfang Alpha.
Sensing her pheromones were steady, devoid of panic, Lance relaxed–proof the confrontation hadn’t truly shaken her.
Now that their relationship was public, he suggested, “I heard the ‘Gathering Square‘ restaurant got a new Southeast Asian chef, skilled in spicy dishes. Want to try it?”
“Sure!” Adelaide touched the wolf–head dagger at her waist.
Her adrenaline rush had left her hungry.
Adelaide and Lance got into the same car.
In the car, Beata’s gray ears twitched nervously. “You’re dining out with Alpha Lance like this……”
Instinctively mindful of public displays of affection, she instinctively reached for her neck.
Adelaide chuckled, her finger tracing the frost wolf emblem on the car window. “Shall we invite him to the Frostfang Pack instead?”
Beata, glancing at the royal guards outside, recalled the half–barrel of pine resin honey in the manor’s
cellar.
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Chapter 153
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“Let’s go to ‘Gathering Square. Their Bloodmoon cellar has thirty–year–old wolfsbane berry wine–perfect with spicy food.”
At the restaurant, Tom had booked the top–floor Lunar Tide private room.
The circular arched window faced the capital’s central Silver Moon Goddess statue, adorned with wolf- skull carvings.
Adelaide took charge of ordering.
Scanning the menu, she asked Lance, “Can you handle spicy?”
“Ever tried chilli sauce on combat boots?”
Lance’s cedar pheromones carried a smile as he tapped the menu’s “Triple Hot” label. “At the Southern Border, I ate military rations with chili powder.”
“Three dishes are enough,” Adelaide said.
“Three? Not enough,” Lance insisted.
Adelaide laughed. “Will we finish it? Waste is shameful.”
“Absolutely. I skipped breakfast, and I didn’t eat at Madison’s. Can’t let my stomach down.”
Adelaide smiled. “Wasting food invites the moon goddess’s wrath.”
She ultimately ordered four spicy main courses and two royal specialties–silver moon dew–marinated pan–fried goose liver and black truffle risotto.
