A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Chapter 252

Third Person’s POV

The amber glow in Lance’s wolf eyes reflected the candlelight as cedar pheromones suddenly enveloped Adelaide, carrying a hint of drunken richness.

The temporary mark on the back of Adelaide’s neck suddenly grew warm–the irresistible attraction between werewolf mates made her subconsciously grip his hand. Her fingertips touched the pulsing gland in his palm, transmitting the same frequency of joyous tremors.

Adelaide looked at Lance’s profile and his defined jawline from the side, forcing herself to avert her gaze; otherwise, her heartbeat would be uncontrollable.

When the banquet reached the dessert course, Irene led the Warscar Training Carp students toward the main table.

Craig, holding a champagne glass, was enough to make Cyrus rise in greeting voluntarily.

Since Lance and Adelaide’s mating ceremony was presided over by Doug, Irene specially prepared three glasses of ice champagne.

She herself lifted the heavy beast horn cup, drained it in one gulp, and let out a satisfied growl from her throat.

Facing the elderly and frail Doug, she merely gestured for him to lightly touch the rim of the cup with his lips, preserving the elder’s dignity while considering his weakened bloodline that couldn’t handle such strong alcohol.

Adelaide, watching everyone approach one by one, felt her eyes well up.

They had come to declare their power and support for her. Even within Alpha Lance’s Blackthorn Pack, they used the wolfish “clinking of blood cups” ritual to announce to all Blackthorn Pack members present –this territory would now also echo with the roar of the Warscar Training Camp, extending her influence.

No one would raise objections to Irene’s background or Craig’s artistic fame at this moment.

In the shadows nearby, Madison and Wanda maintained stern expressions and malevolent gazes.

Seizing the moment when Irene and others left their seats, they pounced toward Priscilla like hyenas scenting carrion.

Madison agitatedly stirred the murky fruit wine in her stone cup with a thick bone skewer, deliberately drawing out her words in a tone of false concern, “Oh, Priscilla, my dear sister, watching this grand spectacle, I’m truly worried for you. Look at Adelaide’s backing… Tsk, tsk. As Lance’s mother, not only will you not see her bow to you, but in the future, every word and glance with her will need careful deliberation. Should you accidentally offend this Luna and displease the claws and fangs behind her, who knows what kind of ‘reply‘ you might receive?”

She emphasized the word “reply,” hinting at bloody retribution.

Priscilla’s mood was as complex as a torn prey animal, indescribably painful.

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Chapter 252

On one hand, as the Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack, Lance’s grand mating ceremony, drawing representatives from numerous powerful tribes, filled her with pride as a blood relative.

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The “gifts” Adelaide received filled the entire exhibition hall, and her network spanned all circles, bringing glory to Priscilla

But this supreme honor shone upon the newly mated pair, “Lance & Adelaide,” not directly illuminating Priscilla herself.

Madison’s venomous words stung her, amplifying and distorting the subtle sense of loss and discontent within her.

Was she truly to live at Adelaide’s mercy from now on?

There was no reason for an Alpha’s mother to suffer such humiliation!

Should Adelaide openly violate the ancient tenets of “bloodline hierarchy” and “respect for elders,” that alone would invite severe criticism from the royal elder council.

But seeing today’s display, with the Warscar Training Camp’s strong support, it was abnormal in itself.

What frightened Priscilla most was the thought of Adelaide appearing respectful to her face while using powers and schemes she didn’t understand to trip her up behind her back–truly leaving her helpless.

Priscilla knew herself to be naively raised, sheltered by the former Lycan Luna.

If Adelaide was adept at political maneuvering, Priscilla would be no match.

At this thought, she lost all interest in dessert and even began doubting the wisdom of moving to the Blackthorn Pack.

At the welcome banquet two days prior, she had noticed many guests didn’t take her seriously.

She had thought it was due to her past lack of networking, but now she realized that with Adelaide’s splendid entry into the Blackthorn Pack, where was her place within it?

The more she thought, the more disheartened she became.

Madison, seeing her few words pierce Priscilla’s most vulnerable nerve like a venomous sting, inwardly sneered at the she–wolf’s foolishness.

At the same time, she exchanged a knowing glance with Wanda.

Wanda immediately chimed in, raising her voice with a deliberately “righteous” tone, “I cannot agree with you, Mother. No matter how influential Adelaide’s background or how powerful she is, what is the law of our wolf bloodline after millions of years? It is to revere the source of blood and to honor the elders! Wolves who defy this will be forsaken by the Moon Goddess. Even I, a royal descendant, after my mating, dutifully learned how to manage a pack.” She deliberately highlighted her past “hardships” to contrast with Priscilla’s potential “misery.”

These words acted like a shot of adrenaline, instantly straightening Priscilla’s slumped posture and brightening her dimmed eyes. Yes! Bloodline hierarchy! Honor the elders!

These were the ironclad laws in our blood.

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Even with the favor of Lycan Erasmus, what could Adelaide do?

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