Chapter 100
100
Third Person’s POV
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At the Bloodmoon Pack, Rosemary fumed upon hearing the rumors about Ulrik, Velda, and Adelaide.
When informed that Velda had returned to the capital without paying her respects, she erupted in fury. “Go, bring her to me now!” she commanded.
Velda’s return journey had left her dispirited.
Ulrik’s deliberate distance from her, despite his own injuries, had made the trip a torment.
She’d tried to assist him, but he’d rebuffed her advances as if she were repulsive. 1
The wolves captured alongside her glared at her with undisguised hatred.
They were all too aware that their brutal treatment stemmed from Velda’s torture of a Western werewolf general.
Now, facing similar retribution from the Western Tribes‘ wolves, they felt a mix of anguish and helplessness.
Their fear and resentment ran so deep that it fueled an intense hatred toward Velda.
Throughout the journey, they refused to engage with her. Even a fleeting glimpse of her would prompt them to flee.
Velda remembered how she’d left, full of confidence and dreams of battlefield glory, believing she’d return a hero.
But reality shattered her illusions.
Now, with half her face scarred and her skin roughened, she’d lost her once–vibrant confidence.
She could tolerate the physical changes and others‘ disdain, but what truly stuck in her craw was Adelaide’s current standing.
Adelaide was now highly revered among the werewolf warriors. The Gammas showed her great care, and even Alpha Lance praised her.
After returning to the capital, Adelaide was in the spotlight, riding in a carriage to cheers from the masses and attending a victory banquet where she was the center of admiration.
Velda, on the other hand, had to slink back to the Bloodmoon Pack, ignored by all, as if the world had forgotten her.
This stark contrast left her in a terrible mood.
Back at the Bloodmoon Pack, Velda’s overgrown claws left five deep scratches on the pine doorframe.
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12:58 am DDDD
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She hastily covered her face with a cedar–scented battle flag and stormed into the room, her vertical pupils shrinking to dark crimson lines in the dim light.
The moonstone mirror revealed the grotesque wound on her left cheek.
Her trembling fingers found the temporary mark behind her ear, now decaying and reeking of sulfur–a sign of her Alpha gland’s deterioration due to enemy pheromones.
She stared into the mirror, her eyes brimming with despair and defiance.
The reflection showed her wolf form: a once–proud silver–gray war wolf, now with hellfire–blackened fur on its left side.
Velda had always known she couldn’t match Adelaide’s beauty, but now the difference was staggering.
She stared at her scarred face, her skin rough as sandpaper, bitterness filling her heart.
With a loud crash, she overturned the Bloodmoon–emblazoned dressing table.
Moonstone shards sliced into her silver–blue palms.
The cedar and mint pheromones that once enthralled Ulrik now reeked of decay and rust.
Her thoughts raced.
She was still Ulrik’s mate; he’d once cared for her.
His coldness now must stem from misunderstanding–thinking she’d been dishonored in captivity.
But she was innocent. Those injuries were just from enemy torture.
She remembered that the burn on her face was treated by Ulrik himself, which proved that he wasn’t repulsed by her scars.
If Ulrik truly valued appearance above all, why would he have bonded with her, especially when Adelaide was far more beautiful?
She firmly believed that their bond, forged in the crucible of battle at Bloodscar Border, was unbreakable,
She was convinced that once they weathered this storm, their future would be happier than Adelaide’s.
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Comparing herself to Adelaide, who was now a celebrated female Gamma but had faced rejection in the past, Velda felt a twisted sense of solace.
Those prestigious werewolves and royal Lycans would never choose her as their mate.
Only the despicable ones, driven by greed and unscrupulous means, would settle for her.
And with Adelaide’s prideful nature, she’d look down on such individuals–dooming her to a life of solitude.
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12:58 am DDDD
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At this thought, Velda felt a strange sense of relief. 1
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Just then, a knock sounded at the door. “Luna Velda, Luna Rosemary requests your presence,” came the
summons.
Velda winced at the thought of Rosemary’s frail yet demanding demeanor.
She hastily grabbed a silk cloth, covered her face, and headed toward Rosemary’s quarters.