A Female Alpha’s Revenge (Adelaide) novel Chapter 783

Chapter 783

Third Person’s POV

Caldwell quickly wrapped up his briefing, summarizing the recent movements following the Palace banquet, specifically the suspicious shifts within the Blue Abyss and Silverlights..

The moment the report ended, Klein turned his gaze toward Lance.

“None of that matters right now. You’re the Alpha heading the negotiations tomorrow. Everything depends on whether your fangs are sharp enough. Now, get out and go to sleep.”

Lance knew better than to argue with an order from Klein.

He stood up immediately, but as he reached the door, curiosity got the better of him.

“You said Mentor Irene blew up the courtyard–how did that actually happen?”

Caldwell began signaling frantically for Lance to shut up, but Lance wasn’t looking his way.

“She was playing with that dangerous alchemical powder. It got out of control. It went off,” Klein answered, his face an unreadable mask.

“Wait,” Lance said, sounding surprised. “The courtyard on the Shadow Peaks is massive. The whole thing is gone?”

“Not exactly.” A dark, ominous glint flickered in Klein’s eyes.

“She was very strategic. She only blew up my bedroom.”

“Oh…” Lance bit back a grin. “Well, in that case, you might as well stay in here for a while.”

Caldwell watched from the sidelines, completely stunned.

Apparently, when Klein was in a bad mood, Lance was the only one brave enough to keep asking questions.

Under Klein’s persistent glare, Lance and Adelaide finally retreated to their room.

Craig, who had been standing awkwardly in the corner the whole time, rubbed his aching legs and muttered that he was tired too, turning to leave.

“Stay right where you are.”

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པས་་ ཀླཔ་

Chapter 783

Klein’s icy voice cracked behind him.

Craig froze mid–step.

Klein stared him down coldly.

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“Do you think I’m an idiot? Irene blew up my room on purpose just to force me to the capital to look after Adelaide for her! And as long as I’m stuck in this city, none of you… are going to have a relaxing second.”

Craig closed his eyes in despair.

The Next Day: The Royal Protocol Hall.

The heavy doors were sealed shut. The air in the hall was thick with the scent of expensive ink and a crushing, low–pressure tension.

The Western Tribe delegation sat opposite them, radiating a forced pride.

Princess Helia looked regal and imposing in her ornate royal regalia. Although she managed the Royal Council back home and carried the prestige of Lycan blood, she technically held no specific government title.

Beside her, Damian had lost every bit of the arrogance he’d displayed at the banquet. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was a ghastly shade of gray, and he looked like a man who had spent the night staring into an abyss.

The other officials with him didn’t look much better; it was clear they’d all had a harrowing night.

The Northern negotiation team was led by Alpha Lance, supported by Lycan Elias and a team of senior diplomats.

Cyrus Voss was also present, though he sat as a silent observer rather than an active participant.

The long table in the center was piled high with parchment files and detailed maps of both kingdoms.

High–level translators stood by to ensure every word was captured with surgical precision, while scribes recorded every sentence for the history books.

Lance sat at the head of the table. He didn’t offer a single diplomatic platitude.

Instead, he made a cold, sweeping gesture for the session to begin.

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9:29 Sat, Apr 11

Chapter 783

87

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“Before we even touch the border treaties,” Lance said, his fingers interlaced as his gaze cut through the wolves across from him, “a shocking act of violence took place on the streets of our capital last night. I assume Princess Helia and the rest of you have heard the details.”

Lance leaned forward, looking like a predator about to lunge.

“Your Royal Guard Commander, Milo Fernandez, led a hit squad into an alley with the intent to murder my Luna. I’ve had his confession prepared for you. I suggest you look it over carefully.”

On his cue, an official stepped forward and handed copies of the confession to the Western

team.

Silence fell over the Western delegation.

This was the moment they had feared all night: how much had Milo spilled?

Watching the flicker of panic in their eyes, Lance leaned back and let a cold smirk play on his lips.

“This happened on our soil, under our protection. So, before we talk about peace, I demand that Princess Helia give me–and our Lycan King–a satisfactory explanation.”

The confession was written in the Northern script. Helia and the others couldn’t read it fully, so their translators leaned in, whispering the translation word–for–word.

The document showed that Milo had taken all the blame.

He claimed the hit was personal.

He stated that since Alpha Bentley had slaughtered so many Western wolves during the previous wars, and Adelaide’s grandfather, Alpha Zander, had held the Bloodscar border for so long, he hated House Doyle and Adelaide with a passion. He admitted to using this diplomatic trip as a cover to plan a private assassination for revenge.

The “perfect” logic of the confession made Helia’s face grow even paler.

No matter how Milo tried to spin it as a private act, the motive was still rooted in the blood- feud at the border–the very thing they were here to resolve.