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.

his mating partner was a she–wolf who’d once had a mate–undoubtedly

dwell on past

the chamber reserved

senses filled with the scents of soil, moss, and the Blackthorn Pack’s intense

Lance would help her remove

chanted ancient blessings, and the Blackthorn Pack’s square erupted

challenges and receive well–wishes. When the bonfire feast reached its peak, they would reappear together to accept the

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Chapter 249

congratulations.

felt oddly

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his chant, Ivy reminded Lance to remove Adelaide’s

fingers were trembling ever

both struck by

seemed to freeze, even the

seeing the other’s image

held, only the wolf–like heartbeat throbbed loudly,

a war

locking onto prey, was ardent and unwavering, fixed upon

unlike

to drape her in silver, softening her usual sharpness, making her appear otherworldly, like

icy glow and fatal allure, akin to a white wolf basking lazily

Adelaide was equally captivated.

Lance,

his usual battle–worn armor for

his handsomeness, it accentuated his towering, pine–straight figure, brimming with raw, potent

was gone. His once–hawk–like eyes now held nothing but