Chapter 21
Third Person’s POV
Velda smirked. “I can’t mimic her meekness. But if I were to pretend to be sweet and coo…”
She crossed her arms, forced a sugary grin, and drawled, “Honey…”
She shuddered dramatically. “Ugh, goosebumps! How does she stand being so
fake?”
Ulrik shuddered too, but the act reminded him of Adelaide her gentle voice always firm, her posture straight as a wolf’s pride
flag, never bending to please.
Velda strode onto the boardwalk, her combat boots tapping sharply.
It was a pity they couldn’t keep half her assets, but with Adelaide gone, Velda would be the undisputed Luna.
She no longer had to persuade herself with the title of “secondary mate.”
Ulrik stayed behind, sitting on a lakeside bench.
The parchment he received that afternoon blazed like a laser, piercing through his mental fog.
Memories, buried by battle and ambition, surfaced slowly–ripples on the lake bringing fragments to light.
He remembered the first time he saw Adelaide at a werewolf gathering, standing by a floor–to–ceiling window, conversing with
elders.
When he came to Frostfang to court her, she sat on a leather sofa, twirling her father’s old badge. “I want a mate who honors wolf
traditions—no lovers, no breeders. Can you do that?”
He’d pledged his life to her then, his heart swelling with pure joy.
He recalled the wedding preparations, the emergency orders on the day of their bonding ceremony.
When he said goodbye to Adelaide at the pack borders, the heart–wrenching reluctance he still vividly remembered.
At that time, his mind was filled with the incomplete bonding ceremony–he was supposed to fully mark her in the bedroom, yet all he could do was watch her figure grow smaller in the distance, the white hem of her dress lifted by the airflow, like a silver wolf eager to spread its wings.
Later, as the campaign against the Northern Tribe progressed, many wolf warriors perished.
He didn’t know when his turn would come, and at that moment, he stopped thinking about Adelaide, focusing instead on strategizing with Velda and the wolf warriors on how to defeat the enemy.
He witnessed Velda shift into a massive gray wolf, her claws bared against the Northern Tribe’s wolves.
In that moment, he realized female wolves could be so powerful.
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On nights in the trenches eating compressed rations, he preferred listening to Velda analyze enemy fortifications, watching her
dagger trace attack routes in the sand, her eyes reflecting determination.
He fell for Velda when she shared her beliefs: female wolves needed no special protection–strength was its own shield
Her confidence, her sharp analysis of battle plans, her unwavering gaze–she was everything Adelaide wasn’t.
Returning to Frostfang, Adelaide walked past the Packhouse.
The pack grounds bore signs of renovation. The Packhouse and the Alpha and Beta residences had all been refitted with new doors, erasing all traces of blood and claw marks.
Elder Halsey had called in favors from distant clan members to help unload and organize the moving truck.
After the bustle died down, Halsey and Adelaide strolled the plaza.
Frostfang used to be lively and bustling, but now it was eerily quiet.
Halsey said, “Frostfang’s yours to rebuild. The Omegas are just the few you brought from Bloodmoon, and the wolf guards are alarmingly few. You need to recruit new members. I can help with the Omegas.”
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