A Female Alpha’s Revenge novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Third Person’s POV

+8 Pearls

Adelaide licked the blood from her lips and drank the last swallow of wine from the bag.

The distant smoke, mixed with the scent of blood, drifted from Frostbite Town, whose walls loomed in the dusk.

Her silver spear dragged a long blood streak on the ground. Her heartbeat matched the heavy rhythm of the wolf–head flag in the night wind.

This was just the beginning. Velda’s debts and the Western Tribes‘ hidden blades would all be settled here on the southern border.

Alpha Lance adjusted tactics with precision, leading the charge like a well–oiled machine, his golden–trimmed blade cutting through enemies.

The blade sliced through the Western Tribes‘ wolf warriors‘ armor, avoiding fatal spots to leave deep gashes around joints–a psychological tactic to overwhelm the enemy’s medical capacity.

This wasn’t mercy.

As a werewolf general with a decade of experience on the southern border, Lance understood. better than anyone: overwhelming the enemy’s medical capacity with casualties was more intimidating than direct kills.

When Dragon Ash warriors had to allocate a third of its forces to treat the wounded, it exposed a fatal weakness.

No general would ignore the wounded, as it would crush morale.

By nightfall, the battle ceased.

As drums fell silent, crows flew past the battlements with the setting sun.

Alpha Lance picked up Adelaide’s wolf–head pendant with his blade,

Blood droplets on the blade froze into tiny crystals. “Three hundred and seventeen confirmed kills–the Warscar Training Camp should erect a statue for you,” he said.

Adelaide’s face was caked with blood and grime.

Alpha Lance gave her a thumbs–up. “Another fine showing!”

Though she cared little for merit–it was her father’s wish to reclaim the southern border that drove her.

Her father and brothers had perished here. Even if she was the sole survivor of her family, she would fulf

Chapter 44

+8 Pearls

Alpha Lance gazed at Adelaide’s weather–beaten face. When she’d arrived, the wind had painted. her cheeks a ruddy hue, like overripe fruit, but her beauty had been undeniable.

Now, Lance was hard–pressed to recognize the woman before him.

Her hair was a disheveled mess, clotted with dried blood from the battlefield, strands sticking together or pointing every which way- even a bird’s nest looked more presentable.

Her armor was torn and bloodied, with no patch of clean skin visible beneath the grime and mud.

She hadn’t bathed in days and looked more disheveled than a street beggar.

“How are you?” Lance asked, recalling the vibrant girl he used to see at the Warscar Training Camp–full of life and fire. She seemed like a completely different person now.

“Hungry!” Adelaide croaked, her chapped lips parting to utter a single word.

Lance’s facial hair twitched. “We’re all hungry. Bear with it.”

“Exhausted!” Adelaide said weakly, “Can’t even stand properly.”

Alpha Lance suddenly gripped her shoulders, his cold blade glinting against the molten fire in his eyes. “Listen, Adelaide Davidson–since the founding of our werewolf kingdom, no general has achieved such a record in their first battle. Not even your father, who killed a mere one hundred and twenty. You’ve done remarkably well. So, hold your head high and walk out with pride.”

At his words, Adelaide snapped her head up, the ice shards on her ears scattering like broken. crystals.

Despite her left leg trembling from a tendon injury, she straightened her spine like a war drum being struck, leaned on her silver spear, and strode out, her bloodied cloak trailing behind. Each step left crimson claw marks in the snow.

Alpha Lance watched from behind, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips..

He had known her since she was little, once imagining…

That night, when the supply convoy finally broke through the blockade with salted meat and moon grass wine, Alpha Lance ordered a bonfire in the camp.

Though modest, it was a full meal for the troops.

Later, Lance convened a meeting with all Silver Claw Gamma and higher–ranking wolf officers.