A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Adelaide’s POV

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Finished

Tamara shook her head hurriedly and said, “Alpha Ulrik and Velda would definitely not appeal to Shaman Digby. Although Shaman Digby is well–known, he has no pack and is merely a rogue. Alpha Ulrik and Velda, being esteemed Lycan generals under Lycan Erasmus, would never stoop to seeking Digby’s help.”

I looked at her and said, “Then you should go. Kneel there for two or three days. If you can bring Digby here, it will be your merit. Even if you can’t, all the surrounding packs will see your effort. Then no one can say you haven’t done your part.”

Tamara’s eyes suddenly lit up as she grasped my intent.

I never expected Ulrik and Velda to make the appeal–it was Tamara I was sending.

Once she earned a reputation for filial piety, the Bloodmoon Pack couldn’t exile her on flimsy pretexts.

Vanya nodded in agreement. “Thank you, Adelaide. It’s the only solution now.”

Then, with a light sigh, she added, “You once devoted yourself to caring for Luna Rosemary, but the outside world couldn’t see or know of it, granting you no recognition.”

“That’s all in the past,” I said calmly.

Tamara quickly expressed her gratitude. “Thank you for your advice. Without it, I’d be at a complete loss. This past month has felt like an eternity of torment.”

I said, “I’ve set up a new altar at the Frostfang Pack’s plaza. Over the next few months, I’ll be praying there to the Moon Goddess for the fallen wolves of the Frostfang Pack. So I won’t be seeing any visitors during this time. Please take care.”

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My meaning was clear–I hoped that no matter what happened in the future, they wouldn’t come to me anymore.

After Vanya and Tamara left, I didn’t go back to my room to rest.

Seeing the sun gradually setting, I knew I had to set off after dark. Even if I lay down for a bit now, it wouldn’t do much good.

Recalling the chaotic scene at Ulrik’s wedding as described by Tamara, for some reason, I suddenly found it quite comical.

So this was the farce triggered by his so–called “true love“?

Guests left one after another, leaving the Bloodmoon Pack utterly humiliated. The wedding was nothing but a ironically named “feast.”

2:13 PM

Finished

I silently repeated the name, feeling the long–suppressed hatred welling up again.

If it weren’t for her committing atrocities like slaughtering surrendered villages for military merit, the Frostfang Pack wouldn’t have faced such a disaster.

She had stolen Ulrik from me before and humiliated me. At that time, considering her contributions, I still held a bit of respect for her.

But now, just thinking of her made my fingers clench with pain.

As for whether my grandfather knew of this?

Was Lycan Erasmus also kept in the dark?

The battle reports made no mention of it. I had to investigate personally.

After night fell completely, I crossed the pack plaza and made my way to the house closest to the pack’s border.

Walking into the living room, I spotted several gift boxes.

I was a bit confused–weren’t these the gifts I had Valentin send to Melinda?

I immediately understood the reason and couldn’t help but smirk.

Of course, no she–wolf about to form a bond would willingly accept blessings from a rejected she–wolf.

But these gifts were my sincere offering. Once given, it didn’t matter whether they were accepted

or not.

I locked the darkest room on the west side.

Moonlight streamed through the small window, illuminating the oak table where three oilcloth- wrapped bundles were prepared. Inside were three sets of leather armor designed for easy combat, with edges reinforced with bull tendons for better biting.

As I loosened the sash of my silk robe, the glands at the back of my neck began to uncontrollably secrete cedar pheromones.

My bones made popping sounds first, my knuckles twisting into wolf claws suited for sprinting.

My spine stretched and restructured like a steel bar being hammered by an invisible blacksmith, the intense pain forcing me to bite down on the prepared jet chain.

The walls suddenly displayed a grotesque shadow as the scapula bone pierced the skin, revealing bone spurs that slowly retracted in rhythm with the tearing and reorganization of muscle fibers. noveldrama

When my fully shifted forepaws shattered the tiles, the oilcloth bundle was flipped by the rush of

air.

2:13 PM

the bundle. My fangs accurately pierced the reserved wolf tendon bindings.

Finished

The royal guards at the border were likely dozing off. Under the cover of night, I relied on my werewolf agility to swiftly vanish.

The cedar pheromones mixed with the night wind filled my lungs. My muscle memory in wolf form instantly found the optimal sprinting rhythm.

The blizzard and ice pellets lashed at my eyelids, so I simply closed my eyes and relied purely on the pheromone trail to navigate.

The rumbling in my wolf’s throat resonated with the wind. I could distinctly taste the bloodiness from fifty miles away.

As the first streak of dawn pierced the clouds, my wolf paws shattered the stained glass window of an abandoned church.

The pain from the stained glass shards embedding in my paw pads jolted me fully awake, with residual beastly features swelling under my skin.

I arched my back, shaking off the last few wolf hairs, and scraped the stone wall with my hardened nails until five grooves, glowing with silvery–blue blood, were etched into it.

On the fifth morning after my departure, I finally reached the southern border.