A Female Alpha’s Revenge (Adelaide) novel Chapter 713

Chapter 713

Third Person’s POV

Craig frowned, tracing a line across the map with his finger as he jumped in.

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“The dispute over this border is ancient history. But during Late Lycan King Jason’s reign, we signed the Icefields Treaty. It clearly states the border is defined by the current line of actual control.”

He looked up. “If Orion is willing to sit down and talk, the original maps and treaties are our smoking guns.”

“Talk?”

Lance let out a dry, cynical laugh and shook his head.

“Craig, forget the legal jargon. There’s an old saying: A new Alpha marks his territory with blood. And this guy? He’s a Lycan King with a lot to prove.”

Lance stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the blizzard.

“Orion’s foundation is shaky. His throne is built on a pile of bodies. He’s desperate to win over the rank–and–file wolves, and he needs a flashy military win to prove he’s the real deal. If those people were interested in logic and treaties, the border wouldn’t be soaked in blood for all these years.”

Adelaide leaned back, rubbing her temples as a headache began to pulse behind her eyes.

“So, we’re at a stalemate. Orion wants to redraw the map to buy national support, and our Lycan Erasmus isn’t going to give up an inch of ground because it would look like a surrender.”

Lance turned around. In the dim light, his face looked like it was carved from stone, his expression grim.

He ground out through gritted teeth, “And that coward Alpha Howell? He’s just been playing dead, waiting for this exact moment to swoop in like a vulture and pick at the scraps.”

Adelaide tapped her desk.

“So, is it confirmed? Has Howell definitely ditched the capital?”

Lance nodded.

“Tommy ran surveillance for several nights straight. Last night, he reported zero trace of

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Chapter 713

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Howell’s pheromones inside the Silverlight packhouse. We’ve got three tracking teams out in different directions, but if he’s in a serious disguise or using heavy–duty scent–blockers, catching his trail is going to be a nightmare.”

Caldwell slammed his fist on the table in frustration. “We dropped the ball. I didn’t think the old rat would actually have the balls to defy orders and vanish right now.”

Adelaide’s eyes went cold, sharp as daggers.

“Since we know he’s gone, we can’t let him slip away in the dark. It’s time Lycan Erasmus found out his ‘sick‘ subject isn’t actually resting at home.”

Lance thought it over for a second.

“Good point. Tomorrow, I’ll have my mother head to the Palace. She can tell Clarissa she’s ‘worried‘ about Howell and suggest the Crown send a royal physician to check on him. I’d usually suggest Melinda for this, but let’s leave her out of it. She deserves some peace.”

Priscilla had moved back to the Blackthorn estate a few days her limit before she got bored.

“I’ll go talk to her now,” Adelaide said, rising with a sense of purpose.

days at the Palace was

Priscilla was already tucked in for the night, looking confused as she opened the door to find Adelaide standing there.

Adelaide didn’t waste time with small talk.

“Tomorrow, I need you to visit Clarissa. During the conversation, just mention that Alpha Howell has been sick for way too long. Ask Clarissa to send a professional doctor to the Silverlights to help him out.”

Priscilla blinked, totally lost.

“You woke me up in the middle of the night for Howell? Those people treated you like garbage. Why do you care if he’s sick?”

Adelaide sighed and changed her angle.

“He’s still Melinda’s father. For her sake, we should show a little… ‘concern.”

Priscilla thought about it. Melinda was a tragic case.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go tomorrow.”

She let out a massive yawn and waved her off. “I’m dead tired. Go back to your own room so I can sleep.”

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Chapter 713

Adelaide bit back a smile and headed out.

The next morning, Priscilla and her omega, Susan, arrived at the Palace.

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“Oh, Clarissa dear,” Priscilla said, peeling an orange with an air of mystery. “What do you think is actually wrong with Howell? He’s been out of commission for ages. He didn’t even show for the New Year Gala.”

Clarissa, who was busy reading, looked up. “What are you getting at, Priscilla?”

Priscilla acted completely innocent.

“I just think it’s weird. He’s been a ghost for so long. Aren’t you curious enough to send someone to check on him?”

Clarissa went silent, mulling it over.

It was true–Howell had been ‘ill‘ for a long time. Not only but he hadn’t even paid a courtesy visit to the Palace since

miss the royal banquets, idays ended.

Luna Skye had dropped by once, but she was incredibly shifty when asked about her mate’s health.

Clarissa knew Howell well–he was ten percent coward and ninety percent spineless. But for a rat like him to hide this long? Something was wrong.

Clarissa closed her book, a sharp glint in her eyes. She summoned her head butler, Richard.

“Go fetch Dr. Hughes. Tell him to head to the Silverlights immediately. I want a formal diagnosis on Alpha Howell’s condition.”

Clarissa paused, her gaze intense. “And Richard? You go with him. I want the real story, not the sanitized version.”

“Understood, ma’am.” Richard had been with Clarissa for decades; he was the gold standard for loyalty and competence in the Palace.

Richard and Dr. Hughes set off for the Silverlight packhouse.

Hughes was Clarissa’s most trusted personal doctor–cranky as hell, but brilliant and honest to a fault. That’s why Clarissa valued him so much and had even seen to the mating of Princess Margot to his nephew, Curtis.

When Luna Skye heard that Richard and Dr. Hughes had arrived specifically to examine Alpha Howell, she stood frozen in the middle of the living room, her face turning as white as a sheet of paper.