<b>Chapter </b>76
Third <b>Person’s </b>POV
<b>The </b><b>Western </b>Tribes‘ werewolves were overwhelming, but Velda fought fiercely.
Her arms underwent wolf–shift, wolf hair–covered ws tore through leather wrist guards and <b>elongated</b>. Ten glinting nails left <b>frosty </b>trails in the air.
<b>Her </b>vertical pupils shrank to arctic–crevice slits. A horizontal sh of her left w shattered three <b>warriors </b>shields.
ncing around, she saw more Western Tribes‘ wolves surging like a tide.
These wolves hadn’t joined the earlier battle but hadin in wait for her.
It was then that she realized she’d fallen into a trap, the same kind she’d used before to gain the upper hand,
Her wolf snarled wearily in her mind.
Velda and Brock were strong fighters, but her team couldn’t hold out against the Western Tribes‘ relentless assault.
Each of her warriors fell, one by one, in a pool of blood.
The enemies were elite fighters. They wielded their wolf ws with deadly precision, striking at throats without hesitation. Their ruthlessness revealed them as <b>a </b>crack force.
Fear gripped Velda.
She wanted to flee, but her path was blocked by the Western Tribe’s soldiers.
The enemy formed a semicircle around her, some armed, others with bare ws.
Though they didn’t attack immediately, they cut off her retreat.
Velda’s strikes grew feeble with fear.
A Western Tribes‘ warrior swung a long knife at her arm.
In panic, she grabbed a nearby teammate and used him as a shield.
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He couldn’t dodge in time and was struck in the head and face by the de, with blood gushing out instantly.
He turned to her, eyes wide with betrayal.
They had fought side by side at Bloodscar Border and shared the glory. Velda had once vowed to stand with them through thick and thin, but now…
Velda shoved him toward the enemy and ran.
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<b>She </b><b>tried </b>to <b>fully </b>shift <b>to </b>escape.
But <b>the </b><b>Western </b>Tribes‘ wolves anticipated this, raising their <b>ws</b>.
<b>Velda’s </b><b>legs </b>had only partially shifted when she leaped, only to step on <b>an </b>enemy’s w.
Agonizing pain shot through her.
She copsed, her legs snapping back to human form, blood pouring out.
The Western Tribes‘ wolves didn’t attack her. Instead, they formed a wall <i>to </i>block her <b>escape</b><b>. </b>
Velda knew they wanted her alive.
She resisted with all her strength, hoping Ulrik woulde for her.
He had shouted a warning when she chased the enemies<b>–</b>maybe he knew it <b>was </b>a trap.
Surely, he’d save her if she held on.
But against the Western <i>Tribes</i>‘ ferus
assault, despite her healing ability, her numerous wounds slowed
her.
In no time, she was covered in scratches.
Though just superficial wounds and she had a strong self–healing ability, the pain was <b>so </b>intense that she almost lost the will to fight back.
In the blink of an eye, two long knives were held to her neck, and the weapon in her hand was knocked to the ground.
She watched helplessly as her teammates fell, their blood reddening the ground.
“Brock, save me!” she cried.
But Brock was soon also cornered.
Along with over ten others, he was captured; the rest were ughtered.
After securing them, a Western Tribes‘ warrior strolled over and removed his golden mask.
Velda trembled in terror.
This face was simr to the one she’d captured at Bloodscar Border, but this man’s gaze was colder, more vicious.
“Velda!” he hissed, hatred oozing from every word. “Did you really think you, a mere werewolf, could defeat me, a Lycan?”
Velda’s legs buckled. A Lycan?
So the one she’d captured before was also a Lycan.
It made sense.
Only royal Lycans could force Snke to cease fire and sign a treaty.
Velda’s voice shook. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” The Lycan’s stare was a tidal wave of hatred. “To repay you in kind.”