Third Person’s POV
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Adide deliberately released pheromones that enhanced the sense of smell, causing the guests to catch a faint whiff of decay.
Wasn’t everyone here to be gossip fodder?
She’d give them a juicy story–one that Madison knew all too well.
Madison wouldn’t dare investigate. The truth would surface otherwise.
Royal regtions prohibit wolf packs from harming or striking breeders or omegas.
Adide had been unaware of these rules until Valentine subtly alerted her as she was leaving today.
With those words left hanging, she walked away, ignoring Madison’s furious roars. The confrontation was
over.
Rosemary was dumbstruck. She’d never seen such a sharp–tongued Adide.
Or perhaps she’d never seen the real Adide–the one who’d cared for her was a different person altogether.
How could someone so proud and capable be willing to tend to her?
She didn’t understand, but somehow she did.
And the realization made her feel worse byparison.
Prisci was even more shocked.
Her horrified gaze followed Adide’s retreating figure until it vanished.
Her heart felt like a drum in her chest, with every bone in her body banging on it, creating a roaring sound that left her ears ringing.
But this sense of utter catharsis was like nothing she’d ever felt before!
The enemy she’d never been able to defeat was now forever at a disadvantage before Madison and her daughter–all thanks to Adide’s sharp tongue.
Madison’sposure had shattered in a way she’d never seen. Oh, how satisfying this was!
While she hadn’t initially approved of Adide bing Lance’s mate, she now had to admit that it might not be so bad after all, right?
No, she couldn’t let herself think further. Adide still wasn’t good enough for Lance<b>. </b>
Adide left, and Lance followed soon after.
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News of their partnership spread quickly through the courtyard. Royal family members and Royal Elder Council members learned of Lance and Adide’s uing bond.
Men and women think differently.
They focus on practical benefits.
Who was Adide?
Adide was Alpha Bentley’s daughter, backed by the Frostfang Pack. She trained at the Warscar Training Camp, where Craig, her schoolmate, was a renowned figure.
The camp’s founder was once the mightiest werewolf general, and its current principal was his descendant.
All wolf packs in the Shadow Peaks and surrounding kingdoms hold the camp in high regard.
The family’s umted wealth over generations was immense.
But wealth wasn’t the main draw–it was the camp’s influence.
Such an elite group was sought after for alliances, let alone marriages.
Moreover, Adide was a hero of the Southern Border remation and the first female Gamma in the werewolf kingdom.
With all this, her past rtionships were irrelevant.
Adide and Lance met at the door. Lance’s amber eyes, glowing in the sunset, noted her silver–tipped ears trembling with residual anger, yet she still held herself upright as the Frostfang Alpha.
Sensing her pheromones were steady, devoid of panic, Lance rxed–proof the confrontation hadn’t truly shaken her.
Now that their rtionship was public, he suggested, “I heard the ‘Gathering Square‘ restaurant got a new Southeast Asian chef, skilled in spicy dishes. Want to try it?”
“Sure!” Adide touched the wolf–head dagger at her waist.
Her adrenaline rush had left her hungry.
Adide and Lance got into the same car.
In the car, Beata’s gray ears twitched nervously. “You’re dining out with Alpha Lance like this……”
Instinctively mindful of public disys of affection, she instinctively reached for her neck.
Adide chuckled, her finger tracing the frost wolf emblem on the car window. “Shall we invite him to the Frostfang Pack instead?”
Beata, ncing at the royal guards outside, recalled the half–barrel of pine resin honey in the manor’s
cer.
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“Let’s go to <b>‘</b>Gathering Square. Their Bloodmoon cer has thirty–year–old wolfsbane berry wine–perfect with spicy food.”
At the restaurant, Tom had booked the top–floor Lunar Tide private room.
The circr arched window faced the capital’s central Silver Moon Goddess statue, adorned with wolf- skull carvings.
Adide took charge of ordering.
Scanning the menu<b>, </b>she asked Lance, “Can you handle spicy?”
“Ever tried chilli sauce onbat boots<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Lance’s cedar pheromones carried a smile as he tapped the menu’s “Triple Hot”bel. “At the Southern Border, I ate military rations with chili powder.”
“Three dishes are enough,” Adide said.
“Three? Not enough,” Lance insisted.
Adideughed. “Will we finish it? Waste is shameful.”
“Absolutely. I skipped breakfast, and I didn’t eat at Madison’s. Can’t let my stomach down.”
Adide smiled. “Wasting food invites the moon goddess’s wrath.”
She ultimately ordered four spicy main courses and two royal specialties–silver moon dew–marinated pan–fried goose liver and ck truffle risotto.