The Alpha's Regret Return Of The Betrayed Luna (Addison) novel Chapter 402

Chapter 402: Chapter 402 Chase Causing Trouble

He let Chase stew in the weight of his words, silently demanding an explanation, while Greg knelt not far away, equally tense and subdued.

"My lord, it’s Chae’s fault! He didn’t follow my plan properly, and that’s why we ended up like this!" Greg was quick to throw the accusation, hoping to save his own skin by shifting all the blame onto Chase. After all, it didn’t matter who took the fall; the mission had already failed.

Besides, Greg believed their master wouldn’t easily kill Chase. With his Alpha bloodline, Chase was too valuable a pawn to dispose of so quickly. But Greg? His usefulness had long since run out.

Years of failed attempts to secure the princess had reduced him to nothing more than a source of information, only for that information to fail repeatedly. And now, he had to face the bitter truth that the Luna he had never taken seriously was the real princess all along.

This mission was supposed to be Greg’s redemption, a chance to prove his worth to their master and climb the ranks. But while he hated Chase, he couldn’t deny the harsh truth that Chase’s position was far more secure than his.

As an Alpha, Chase was a battlefield powerhouse, a killing machine whose loss would be like losing an arm for their master. Greg’s own death, on the other hand, would barely register, like a stone dropped into a calm lake, causing only a brief ripple before everything returned to quiet.

He couldn’t afford to take the fall; it would mean his absolute doom. And though Chase had threatened him earlier, Greg knew, or at least hoped, that Chase wouldn’t actually report him to their master.

Why?

He couldn’t explain it. All he knew was that Chase wasn’t like the rest, who were driven purely by hatred and madness. Cold-blooded as he was, Chase still possessed a shred of morality, a hint of humanity that set him apart.

Right now, Greg clung desperately to that sliver of conscience in Chase. And so, he did the only thing he could think of: he threw all the blame onto him.

Chase gritted his teeth at Greg’s accusation, but, just as Greg had expected, he didn’t say a word. Normally, such a mistake would have meant death, heads would fly, and their master would toss the useless culprit aside like a discarded doll onto a pile of bones.

Those bones had once belonged to their master’s own people, once alive, once useful, and now nothing more than a grim reminder to everyone.

The piles served as a warning to the others: fail, and you would end up the same way. The followers behind Greg could do nothing but bow and tremble, as if trying to merge with the floor itself, oppressed by the dark, ominous aura emanating from their master.

"Chase... are you not even going to explain yourself?" the man growled. His voice rumbled like thunder through the chamber, and the sheer force of it sent the glass windows shattering into sharp fragments.

Chase wasn’t in any rush to explain. Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting his master’s gaze with eyes so deep and unreadable they seemed to pierce through the room. Then, he cast a brief, sharp glance at Greg.

The moment their eyes met, Greg stiffened, his body trembling. His earlier arrogance, assuming Chase would remain silent, crumbled instantly. After all, Chase had always been punished for failing critical missions, and Greg had thought adding one more failure wouldn’t hurt. That’s why he had so easily pinned the blame on him.

"Master," Chase began lazily, "I’ve done exactly as I was told. Just as you said, even the thought of betrayal would have meant death, so I could only carry out what was required of me."

In this way, he let his master’s paranoia do the work. A suspicious master, Chase knew, would rather sacrifice a hundred innocent lives than allow a single traitor to remain unchecked. If anyone were to die for the failed mission, it would be their people, not him.

Bound by a curse that prevented him from directly harming his master, Chase had to operate indirectly. Through subtle manipulation, he could gradually undermine his master’s power, letting it erode from within, quietly and invisibly, until it became hollow.

And this was exactly why their master had never doubted Chase before. The man had a notoriously short fuse; he killed at the drop of a hat and at the slightest displeasure, but Chase’s Alpha bloodline made him too valuable to eliminate.

In his eyes, Chase was more useful than all the others combined. And with Chase bound under a curse, betrayal seemed impossible.

But the moment Chase dropped that subtle yet deadly hint, a crack formed in the man’s certainty. Their master’s brow tightened, and his dark, wicked eyes swept across the room, sharp enough to peel skin.

"Very well," he growled, each word dripping with venom. "Since no one wants to come forward... drag them all out and skin them alive."

His roar shook the air, exactly as Chase expected. The instant their master even suspected a mole, he slaughtered his subordinates without hesitation. And those deaths were never swift. They were always the cruelest imaginable.

"M-Master, please, calm your anger!"

Greg crawled on the floor to come closer to their master, as he was trembling so violently he could barely hold himself up. He could already imagine the agony of being skinned alive, but he refused to surrender to despair just yet.