A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Chapter 404

Third Person’s POV

Adelaide stood tall in a light–gray battle robe, the pack’s totem embroidered at the collar. Her boots, reinforced with iron armor, clicked against the ground. The loose sleeves flapped in the wind, accentuating her upright posture.

Yet, her features still carried a lethal aura, and her clothes were splashed with the invaders‘ dark red blood, like crimson flowers on white silk.

At the height of everyone’s shock, Emerson stepped forward.

His pheromones wavered with nerves as he tried to stay calm. “Bind them and hand them over to the police station.”

“Call a doctor! Quickly!”

Rosemary rushed over, her blood–stained hair gleaming dully under the light.

She supported the pale Ulrik, her pheromones sharp with terror. “Where are you hurt? Where?” she fretted.

Ulrik’s eyes were bloodshot. Though his wounds were mostly superficial, the wolfsbane–laced cuts caused excruciating pain.

His cedar pheromones mixed with the sulfurous stench of agony, his breathing heavy and labored.

When Velda used him as a shield, he had braced for death.

But Adelaide arrived just in time.

A whirlwind of emotions hit him–relief from his brush with death, and anguish from destiny’s cruel

twists.

Dragging his bleeding leg forward, his wolf eyes gleamed with an ethereal blue light. “You came to rescue me. How could you? You still care about the Bloodmoon Pack’s safety, and about me, don’t you?”

light. She glanced at Emerson’s

“As the Ironthorn Army’s deputy commander, isn’t it natural for me to be

hope. “You do care about me. You’re just still angry about my mating with someone

His cedar pheromones surged.

an eyebrow. The moonstone

faced Emerson, her tone brooking no argument. “Emerson, you work at city hall. Once these

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Chapter 404

the wolf–head dagger at her

“Yes, Luna Adelaide!”

a reminder to Ulrik of her status and a cue for him to silence

Snow–pine pheromones escaped his neck

fluffed up–a werewolf’s instinctive

tie up the invaders

Police must be

wanting to

over the threshold, she

spun around to see Velda’s hand morphed into a wolf

sprayed across her face, blending with her

who dares to harm me

with oppressive power, ringing

“You’re mad!” Emerson fumed.

We need to interrogate them at the police station to find

gaze, her look intricate

who left the Bloodmoon Pack and dissolved

frowned at Velda’s blood–splattered face. “You think they’re from the Western Tribe?

flickered,