Chapter 155

Third Person’s POV

He coughed, and the scarf around his neck bounced. Adelaide turned her head, not wanting to look directly at it. The knitting was really bad. The pattern wasn’t a bird or a bee–it was all wrinkled.

“Does he even remember who gave him that scarf?”

No way. She had to find a chance to steal it back and get rid of it.

She slurped her pasta. The spicy and smooth flavor was satisfying, but she still kept her eyes on his scarf.

She asked casually, “Alpha Lance, the knitting on your scarf is pretty bad. Did someone you know make it? You didn’t buy it, did you?”

Lance’s cheeks turned red from coughing. He drank a few sips of water to calm the spice. “This? I’ve had this scarf for a long time. I think it was a wolf pup who was just learning to knit. It was the first hand–made gift I ever got, so I couldn’t bear to throw it away. It’s just a shame I can’t remember who gave it to me.”

He sounded serious, his eyes full of regret. Clearly, he had forgotten.

Adelaide relaxed. If he had’t remembered by now, he never would.

She made up her mind to practice knitting a lot in the coming days.

“Before this, no one ever gave you a hand–made gift?” Adelaide asked. She split some beef onto his plate. “Eat up.”

He began to eat the steak slowly.

When he ate, he was graceful–nothing like the battle field. Back in the capital, everyone started caring about their image.

Lance said. He coughed again, like the spice got to him again. He drank a lot of water,

going to cough up his lungs. He couldn’t help but worry, “Alpha Lance has never been good with spice. Why’s he

on Lance’s ears curled a bit from the

can’t handle spice. Why

plate of non–spicy dishes in front

not feeling great,” Lance said. He cleared his throat, but the

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Chapter 155

wisp of cedar pheromones, trying to cover the burning in his

smell of blood thirty

opened the private room door, and asked the waiter

was coaxing a

up the milk. It had a slight

importantly, it was her thoughtfulness–she saw through his act and his deliberate

really grown up a

a bit heartbroken, because the way she coaxed him to drink milk was probably how she used to

the Bloodmoon Pack as family, and genuinely wanted to spend her life with

didn’t deserve her

fierceness crossed Lance’s eyes–Solanke’s

her commit suicide like the son of the Western Tribe

thinking about?” Adelaide asked when she

head. “Nothing. We’ll talk

Beata and

understood they might have something serious to discuss. She asked the waiter to move the dishes to the

two of them in the private

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