A Female Alpha’s Revenge novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Adelaide’s POV

I returned to my courtyard and immediately penned a letter, dispatching a former Frostfang guard–shifted and under cover

Warscar Training Camp by night.

The southern border battle gnawed at me like a splinter.

Scattered clues hinted at something amiss, but I’d keep conjectures buried until hard evidence surfaced.

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My maternal grandfather, Alpha Zander, and my two uncles had been stationed at the border for years. Last winter, they deployed

with wolf warriors to aid the Southern Tribe’s war effort. When the Western Tribe retaliated, Bloodmoon lacked the warriors to

hold the line.

Ulrik and Velda had gone to reinforce them, but what exactly transpired on the battlefield?

For the following month, I sealed Frostfang’s borders.

I appointed suitable individuals as Beta, Gamma, and wolf guard captain–all loyal Frostfang members.

The new Beta, now returned from retirement, had served Frostfang before the new Beta took over.

His silver–flecked temples were a stark reminder of his experience.

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That night, after a run along the border and a soak in the tub, I emerged to find Beata entering with a letter.

“Alpha Adelaide, a message for you,” she said.

As the note unfurled in my palm, searing pain erupted–wolf claws bursting through my skin.

Before deciphering the script, my wolf erupted in a soul–shattering howl within my consciousness.

Silver–blue blood welled from my elongated claws, carving deep trenches into my palm.

My wolf’s self–mutilation screamed a warning.

The parchment, reeking of cedar and violet pheromones, bore grave tidings.

“Velda massacred an entire surrendered village. Border wolf generals have jointly petitioned in secret.”

Beata’s voice drifted through the fog, “What’s wrong?”

I stared at my reflection and said, “Fetch a bottle of vodka.”

The candle flickered as Heata hurried out. Once alone, I suppressed the rising wolfish snarl

Cedar musk exploded in the air, and the note–now scorched at the edges–was shredded into snowflake–like fragments.

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In the swirling ash, invisible claws shredded the script, each stroke disintegrating into dust finer than moonstone powder.

The Western Tribe and our kingdom have always spared civilians and captives–an unspoken rule.

Could Velda have broken it?

Recalling Ulrik’s averted gaze when he spoke of “battlefield ruthlessness,” the pieces clicked. Their “victory” was baptized in

Bloodmoon. Ulrik had said, “When I return victorious, we’ll share this drink.”

Velda’s massacre of an entire village, including civilians, has ignited the Western Tribe’s spies into a vengeful frenzy against

This attack was their way of avenging past defeats and present grievances,

a peace treaty with Velda, delineating the border and pledging no further aggression.

I resolved to wait for Craig’s return from the Bloodscar Border for answers.

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