A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Adelaide’s POV

Alpha Lance summoned me to his tent.

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On the pine–wood table sat a weathered mug; a steaming cup of coffee was pushed toward me, the rising vapor blurring my vision.

I caught the scent of moonflower.

Taking a sip, the bitter coffee slid down my throat. Here, on the southern border, such a hot drink was a rare luxury.

“You considered killing her just now,” Lance said suddenly.

His voice was deep, roughened by battle.

“Yeah, I did,” I replied without flinching, meeting his gaze.

He nodded and continued, “Our scouts report that the Western Tribes have covered up the village massacre, claiming it was a fire that killed everyone. You know what that means?”

I subconsciously gripped my coffee mug tighter. The warmth from the cup seeped into my palm, but a cold dread filled my heart.

After a tense pause, I said, “They’re hiding the fact that their future Lycan King was humiliated.”

I understood their motive–the Western Tribes would go to any lengths to shield their future monarch from disgrace.

“So even if Lycan Erasmus uncovers the truth, he can’t act against Velda publicly. At least your grandfather, Alpha Zander, is safe from involvement.”

I knew that if the Western Tribes denied the massacre, Lycan Erasmus couldn’t force them to admit it and then send apologies.

If the Western Tribes‘ Lycan King demanded justice, Velda would shift from hero to criminal, and my grandfather, Alpha Zander, would be dragged into the mess.

But now, with the Western Tribes pretending nothing happened and even signing a treaty, Velda’s actions have earned her credit instead.

I suddenly connected the dots and looked up at Alpha Lance. “So Solanke is helping Dragon Ash hold us back on the southern border, hoping Lycan Erasmus sends reinforcements? Velda’s a credited warrior. She’d be selected for sure. Solanke’s real target is her and her troops?”

Everything suddenly made sense.

Alpha Lance nodded. “We’re technically at peace with the Western Tribes, but we’ve made an enemy. The Battle of Darkclaw Town will be their chance for revenge. If you’d killed Velda today, Solanke couldn’t avenge his nephew, and might take it out on the innocent wolves of Darkclaw Town.”

C

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“The Western Tribes would massacre the town?”

I felt a chill. A massacre would mean countless innocent lives lost, a terrible disaster.

“Not yet, but if Velda dies, all bets are off. Solanke is the uncle of the Lycan King’s son in the Western Tribes.”

Alpha Lance’s words hit me like a hammer.

My wolf whined a warning in my mind.

I realized how close I’d come to causing a disaster and broke out in a cold sweat.

“Don’t overthink it. Focus on training the wolf warriors. Solanke’s after Velda. When the real fight starts, the Western Tribes‘ main force will go after her. Even if Erasmus doesn’t declare her guilty, she’ll struggle to survive Solanke’s hunt,” Lance said in a rare gentle tone, soothing me.

I acknowledged his words with a nod. Following werewolf etiquette, I knelt on one knee and bowed my head slightly before taking my leave.

Back in my tent, Paisley and Halbert were joking around.

Seeing me, Paisley immediately bounded over, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Now let’s see how Velda keeps her nose in the air! She thinks she’s so high–and–mighty.”

I sat down to clean my silver spear, its surface still bearing the marks of battle. As I wiped it, I warned, “Leave her be. Focus on preparing for the siege.”

“Why would I bother with her? She’s more disgusting than a rotting wolf carcass,” Paisley scoffed, her tail swishing impatiently. The crimson Flame Pack emblem on her clothes flickered in the candlelight.

Listening to their chatter about the battle, I pretended to follow the conversation but was lost in thought about Lance’s strategy.

He’d allowed Velda to challenge me, and now that she’d lost, she’d lost the chance to gain from the war.

Moreover, she’d be flogged with a whip dipped in wolfsbane poison.

The poison would seep into her wounds, disabling her regenerative abilities and leaving her impaired.

Proud as she was, Velda would likely become passive on the battlefield.

This way, she’d either die at Solanke’s hands or be captured. noveldrama

Should Velda perish on the southern border, no one would investigate the Bloodscar Border incident.

Lance’s plan protected both the kingdom’s dignity and the Western Tribes‘ secret–a brilliant two–pronged

strategy.

I shuddered.

Had Lance deliberately named Velda in the reinforcement request?

The thought sent chills down my spine.

JO

“If that’s the case, he’s terrifyingly clever,” I muttered to my wolf.

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“Humph! I’d rather snap that wretched she–wolf’s neck myself,” my wolf growled, then curled up in my mind, ignoring me.