The Female Alpha’s Sanctuary

Chapter 249

Third Person’s POV

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After a commotion filled with low growls and the rustling of fur, it seemed Priscilla had taken her seat.

Then, the Warscar Training Camp requested another stone throne be brought in for Irene and Klein to sit and receive Adelaide and Lance’s “tributes.”

Traditionally, Adelaide should have bid farewell to her ancestral spirits under the moonlight in her birth pack before joining her mate’s territory.

How could Lance show reverence to her mentor in his own Blackthorn Pack?

This defied werewolf tradition.

Klein’s deep, authoritative voice boomed like a wolf king’s growl, “In the name of the Moon Goddess and bloodline, I am Lance’s mentor, guiding him to harness power. Why shouldn’t Laccept his tribute?”

Who cared about archaic traditions?

In the wild, power was law, and the strong made the rules.

Klein’s logic was unassailable. As Lance’s mentor, he sat on the stone throne symbolizing power, representing the source of Lance’s strength–a rightful and legitimate place.

Side by side, they stood before the blazing wolf smoke and towering totem pole.

A sense of familiarity washed over Adelaide. Almost instinctively, she turned toward the silver moon, quietly prompting Lance, “We need to face the moonlight.”

Lance smoothly turned, his voice calm yet undeniably commanding: “Follow the Moon Goddess’s lead.”

Adelaide immediately fell silent, realizing her’slip.

Alpha warrior, favored by royalty, and his mating

not to dwell

guided toward the chamber

uneven, her senses filled with the scents of soil,

would

ancient blessings, and the Blackthorn Pack’s square erupted in a deafening chorus of howls, the pack’s

warm room, while he ventured out to face challenges and receive well–wishes. When

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Chapter 249

congratulations.

process felt

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enough, after the Royal Elder finished his chant, Ivy reminded Lance

fingers were

contact was immediate, both

even the

the other’s image

held, only the wolf–like heartbeat throbbed

like a war

prey,

was unlike any he’d

silver, softening her usual sharpness, making her appear otherworldly, like a spirit from the depths of the Moon Goddess’s

radiated an icy glow and fatal allure, akin to a white wolf basking lazily yet dangerously in the full moon’s

Adelaide was equally captivated.

her stood Lance, more dazzling

shed his usual battle–worn armor

diminishing his handsomeness, it accentuated his towering, pine–straight

aristocratic elegance remained, yet any trace of cold aloofness was gone. His once–hawk–like eyes now held nothing