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.

formidable Alpha warrior, favored by royalty, and his mating partner was a she–wolf who’d

dwell

guided toward the chamber

interminably long, the ground uneven, her senses filled with the scents of soil, moss, and

Lance would help

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

face challenges and receive well–wishes. When the bonfire feast

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Chapter 249

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process felt

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after the Royal Elder finished his chant, Ivy reminded

noticed his fingers were trembling ever so

was immediate, both struck by mutual

seemed to freeze, even the

other’s eyes, seeing the other’s image clearly–a primal, overwhelming beauty beyond

heartbeat throbbed loudly, drowning out

pounded like a war drum,

gaze, like a wolf locking onto prey, was ardent and

was unlike any he’d

her in silver, softening her usual sharpness, making her appear otherworldly, like a spirit from the depths

and fatal allure, akin to a white wolf basking

Adelaide was equally captivated.

her stood Lance, more

his usual battle–worn armor for the mating ceremony

it accentuated his

aristocratic elegance remained, yet any trace of cold aloofness was gone. His