A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Chapter 63

Third Person’s POV

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Her words stirred a warm feeling in Ulrik’s heart.

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Velda wasn’t just any she–wolf; she was a Gamma who commanded troops in battle and a hero who’d signed the Bloodscar Border treaty.

Her willingness to contribute to family and pack was truly touching.

When she said she’d even cook for the pack members for him, it was no wonder Ulrik felt his chest warm and his past disappointments in her fade away.

The challenge was scheduled for dusk. Lance only sent Tommy to inform Adelaide.

As Adelaide watched the wolf warriors train, she nodded slightly at Tommy’s message. “Hmm, noted.”

Soon, the entire werewolf army knew about this challenge.

After training, Paisley and the others sought out Adelaide.

Each patted her shoulder, sparing with just two words, “Beat her.”

Adelaide smiled at them.

Beating Velda would be tough–not because of killing her, but because of the struggle and the need for immense self–control.

A streak of sunset couldn’t dispel the border’s cold.

In the wilderness, 15,000 Ironthorn Army soldiers stood in formation to the east.

the challenge packed the other

wolf warriors who’d come to support, there were also those

had full confidence

by Velda, believed Adelaide had secured her Silver Claw Gamma position

nearly exiled from the pack, unfit

of the supporting wolf warriors favored Velda, except for the Ironthorn Army, which had

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Chapter 63

feel the sharpness of

how

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the royal guard didn’t. They only recognized Ulrik and Velda, who’d led them to the

held her in even greater contempt, now that Alpha Lance had

would shatter Adelaide’s teeth and tear off

expression stern. As the challenge’s referee, he knew his responsibility was weighty. Other generals were also nearby, their

Ironthorn Army, clad in armor. The setting sun cast its rays

regrown a bit, and the harsh wind had chapped his skin. Though no longer as handsome as before, his majesty remained

reiterated the consequences of defeat for

both parties acknowledged them, Lance fell

robe still unstained by blood, stood

eyed Adelaide, who held a silver spear before

Velda would never have linked her to the elegantly dressed, poised Luna they’d

facial features, her skin and attire were

was disheveled and dirty, her face roughened by sand and cold, a

and skin had

of delicate beauty, like a glass doll, fragile and easily

over, “Adelaide, do you really think stepping onto the battlefield will make you better than me? You’re not just foolish. In a way, you’re shrewdly cunning. You know how to exploit your father’s connections to elevate yourself to a position you could never reach in your