What Happens in Chapter 202 – From the Book A Female Alpha’s Revenge
Dive into Chapter 202, a pivotal chapter in A Female Alpha’s Revenge, written by GoodNovel. This section features emotional turning points, key character decisions, and the kind of storytelling that defines great Werewolf fiction.
Chapter 202
Chapter 202
Third Person’s POV
Lance felt a stir in his heart. It was rare to see her so gentle.
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Looking at the two layers of gauze on his hand, he chuckled, “It’s just a scratch, no need for all this fuss.” His voice carried a hint of indulgence, an subconscious effort to ease the charged atmosphere.
“Why not?” She looked up, her amber eyes wide and shimmering like flickering flames in the candlelight.
“This kind of wound can get infected and pus–filled if not treated properly. I’ve been through it. Let me show you my scar,” she said, extending her hand to reveal a half–finger–long scar on her wrist, now faintly pink.
“It was infected once. My wolf healing kicked in, but it left this mark. Your hands are so nice. It’d be a pity if you got a scar… Well, you’d still look good,” she added, trailing off as if catching herself.
Lance’s wolf let out a cheerful whine at her concern.
With a teasing smile, he said, “What’s the use of a man having nice hands?”
Adelaide replied earnestly, “It’s better than ugly,” her tone brooking no argument, as if stating a survival law of the werewolf world.
He chuckled, his voice softening, “Then you might be disappointed. I’ve got plenty of scars.” His tone carried the resignation of a werewolf warrior, where honor and scars are eternal companions.
Adelaide sighed softly, her fingers gently brushing the edge of the gauze as if sensing his warmth. “I believe every scar on you has a story,” she said.
“And they’re your glory,” she added after washing her hands, flashing a bright smile. “I’ve got my own glory too.”
“Are your wounds all healed?” he asked, recalling her battlefield injuries.
“Long ago. I take pride in them,” she said, dismissing the servants and ordering refreshments and coffee. “Ask Mallory and the others to join us for coffee.”
Jasmine reported, “Beta Valentin has already invited them to the front hall for coffee. They’ll head back soon. Doctor Digby told them Cedric needs to sleep and they needn’t wait. They said they’d return
tomorrow.”
“Good,” Adelaide nodded, visibly relieved.
“It’s better they leave. I have little to say to them and can’t just leave with guests around.”
Lance asked, “Does having me here make you uncomfortable?”
“How could it?” she replied in surprise.
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“We’re comrades–in–arms and soon to be mates. We’ll be spending our lives together.”
She smiled again, “Besides, we were schoolmates. There’s no awkwardness between us.”
Lance rolled his eyes, now a little uneasy.
The refreshments and coffee were ready. Adelaide poured him a cup. “I know you always say thanks aren’t. needed, but I must thank you. Without you, Cedric might still be with those people, a rogue suffering abuse, scorn, and hunger.”
Her eyes welled up. “Mallory told me most disabled young rogues don’t live past ten. Weakened by daily maltreatment and cold hunger, they often die from minor illnesses or freeze to death in harsh winters. Every year, we collect the bodies of many young rogues, most died of starvation or freezing.”
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