A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Chapter 41

Adelaide’s POV

+8 Pearls

When Alpha Lance found me, I was sharpening my silver claws with the new recruits.

His frost–kissed ears bristled with anger, and his voice had that gravelly growl unique to werewolves, “Pack up. I’m sending you back to the capital before dawn.” I gripped the rust–stained whetstone, my bandaged knuckles straining from my wolf transformation. I said, “The Frostfang Pack doesn’t have cowards. Unless you cut off my claws.” He stared at my bleeding palm for what felt like ten heartbeats, then growled hoarsely, “Don’t die too quickly,” and strode away, his mud- splattered cloak flapping behind him.

My wolf nudged me and said, “His scent is intoxicating.”

lignored it. Angela peeked out from behind a barracks post, her rose–gold earrings catching the firelight.

“Does this wolf general always behave like a savage?” she asked.

Paisley scuffed a frozen blood clod with her boot. The sulfur pheromones of the Western Tribal wolves mixed with her sigh. “After three years here, who isn’t a mess?”

True enough, the southern border had been a battleground for years.

My father had commanded here. Now it was Alpha Lance’s turn.

Halbert patted his curved blade and said, “Savages make the best fighters. It’s a good thing.”

On Christmas Eve, Frostbite Town’s gates burst open at dawn.

Waves of werewolf warriors flooded out, Western Tribes and Dragon Ash wolves in mixed armor, indistinguishable from each other.

the first time, my palms sweated

the transformed wolves, I recalled my father’s notes, “In werewolf combat, there are

claws.”

my silver spear pierced a werewolf warrior’s throat,

nose.

totem pole but saw golden–wolf riders in

northern bait tactic.

and fought on. From

tongue was coated with dried blood, and bodies beneath my feet formed a

3.22 PM ct c

Chapter 41

weary from travel and training, couldn’t heal it fast

+8 Pearls

Ash warriors retreated into the town, I collapsed into

my stiff wrists, wolf- claws caked with flesh,

wolf–claws but only kicked up ice water. “Fifty for me! Three hearts crushed with

by, pine torches lit the

The Dragon Ash

carpet, lunged at me, “Alpha Lance tallied your kills! Three hundred and seven throats

blood grooves on my peach–blossom spear. I remembered my father’s calloused hand gripping mine

death depend

tasted of rust. I noticed her wine–red braid snagged a

echoed as