Chapter 67
Adelaide’s POV
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Angela hurriedly rushed over, grabbing Paisley’s waist from behind and tugging her back. Her wolf cars, pressed tightly against her scalp, betrayed her anxiety.
“She’s a general. As Iron Claw warriors, we can’t attack our superior. Alpha Lance is strict, and we still have to fight alongside Adelaide.”
Paisley was fuming, her wolf fur bristling like steel wires.
Her claws nearly shredded the crimson Flame Pack emblem on her belt. “Let me go! What kind of lousy officer is she? I don’t care about Alpha Lance. I’ll defecate on her face!”
Velda’s pheromones surged, her voice trembling with a wolf howl. “How dare you!”
I was both amused and irritated. Snatching the sulfur–reeking whip from Paisley’s hand–a signature weapon of the Crimson Flame Pack that could produce sonic booms when swung–I casually tossed it at her feet.
“Go back. I need to talk to her.”
Paisley lashed out at the icy ground with her whip.
Her strength split the frozen soil, creating a blue–glowing crack that stretched all the way to the bonfire stand, sending pine logs clattering noisily.
“You better scold her to death. Otherwise, I’ll be back to finish the job.”
She stormed off.
When the curious werewolf warriors had mostly dispersed, leaving only a few stragglers in the distance, Ulrik approached Velda. The frost–wolf insignia on his pauldron glimmered coldly in the bonfire’s glow as he fixed his gaze on me.
“So, Ellen’s challenge was a setup, just as Velda said. You staged it for us, didn’t you?”
I stared into the leaping flames, my tone icy. “Are you flattering yourselves? A performance for you? You’re not even worth it.”
Velda stepped forward, her silver–wolf shoulder badge brushing against Ulrik’s armor.
With a sneer, she challenged, “Ellen stood there motionless as you stabbed him. He didn’t flinch, just conceded. Tell me that wasn’t an act.”
I pointed to the battleground, the moonstone pendant on my spear tip tracing a silver arc. “If your eyes work, look why Ellen gave up.”
Seven or eight meters away, five cracks snaked toward where Ellen had stood.
They shallowed at the footprints–spots where I’d pulled back my wolf–claw–enhanced strength, nearly crippling him.
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Velda stared at the cracks, à reluctant growl rising in her throat.
She quickly straightened, her pheromones shifting to a cloying pine scent as she linked arms with Ciri
Smugly, she declared, “True, I lost to you in the challenge. But I was the top contributor at Bloodscar Border. Ulrik and I have Lycan Erasmus’s blessing to be mates.”
“Know what? Ulrik adores me. Even if your rank surpasses mine, I’ll forever be the Kingdom’s first female Gamma, Ulrik’s mate. You can’t replace that.”
I burst into mocking laughter, then composed myself.
Coolness seeped into my voice. “I don’t crave the title of ‘Alpha Ulrik’s Luna‘ or that ‘first female Gamma shit. Why would I replace you? Since you belittle she–wolves, I’ve looked down on you. All the merits in the world can’t save a despicable person.”
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Velda’s smile froze. “Oh, so you’re attacking my character now. You care more than you let on, hence the bitterness. Admit it–you’re just bitter about our rivalry on the battlefield.”
I spun my spear, the wolf–head carvings on the shaft leaving silvery afterimages.
With a casual grin, I said, “You flatter yourself. Maybe you should see a pack physician–they specialize in treating wolf delusions.”
She shouted behind me as I leaped toward the bonfire, unleashing my wolf to bolster my leg muscles.
My legs tensed like silver bowstrings under the moonlight.
In a few bounds, I reached the battlements, grabbed a poisoned bolt from a guard, and hurled it at the crack.
The bolt embedded itself squarely in the center.
My voice, laced with Alpha authority, echoed through the night: “From here, the cracks are crystal–clear. Are you all blind?”
Ulrik and Velda froze.
Ulrik’s hand instinctively gripped his sword hilt while Velda’s claws dug into his pauldron.
During Ellen’s challenge, they’d stood exactly where I was now, thinking I was unaware.
My wolf had sensed their presence, but I’d ignored it.
They hadn’t noticed the cracks at all.
As werewolves, if they’d missed such a clue, they were inferior in more ways than one.
I inwardly scoffed, recalling how I’d once thought Ulrik could be my mate.
His gaze now irritated me—he used to be the center of my desires, someone I’d hoped to build a life with despite not being true mates.
We’d planned to manage a pack together.
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But now, his complicated gaze was grating.
I turned and left.
