Third Person’s POV
He coughed, and the scarf around his neck bounced. Adide turned her head, not wanting to look directly at it. The knitting was really bad. The pattern wasn’t a bird or a bee–it was all wrinkled.
“Does he even remember who gave him that scarf?”
No way. She had to find a chance to steal it back and get rid of it.
She slurped her pasta. The spicy and smooth vor was satisfying, but she still kept her eyes on his scarf.
She asked casually, “Alpha Lance, the knitting on your scarf is pretty bad. Did someone you know make it? You didn’t buy it, did you?”
Lance’s cheeks turned red from coughing. He drank a few sips of water to calm the spice. “This? I’ve had this scarf for a long time. I think it was a wolf pup who was just learning to knit. It was the first hand–made gift I ever got, so I couldn’t bear to throw it away. It’s just a shame I can’t remember who gave it to me.”
He sounded serious, his eyes full of regret. Clearly, he had forgotten.
Adide rxed. If he had’t remembered by now, he never would.
She made up her mind to practice knitting a lot in theing days.
“Before this, no one ever gave you a hand–made gift?” Adide asked. She split some beef onto his te. “Eat up.”
He began to eat the steak slowly.
When he ate, he was graceful–nothing like the battle field. Back in the capital, everyone started caring about their image.
“My mom doesn’t make stuff by hand. I just buy what I need,” Lance said. He coughed again, like the spice got to him again. He drank a lot of water, but coughed even harder.
Tommy, sitting nearby, watched Lance cough like he was going to cough up his lungs. He couldn’t help but worry, “Alpha Lance has never been good with spice. Why’s he acting like he loves it today?”
Adide noticed too. The wolf hair on Lance’s ears curled a bit from the spice. The pheromones from the back of his neck had a hint of sulfur.
He clearly can’t handle spice. Why did he pick this restaurant?
“No need to push yourself,” she said. She slid a te of non–spicy dishes in front of him. “Goddess above, I can smell your nds rebelling.”
“My throat’s not feeling great,” Lance said. He cleared his throat, but the spice still burned. It was really ufortable.
He deliberately released a wisp of cedar pheromones, trying to cover the burning in his throat. But Adide raised an eyebrow.
Her wolf nose could pick up the smell of blood thirty miles away. How could she not see through his act?
“I’ll get you a ss of milk,” Adide said. She got up, opened the private room door, and asked the waiter for a bowl of milk. “Milk helps with spice.”
She smiled, like she was coaxing a kid. “Drink it up.”
Lance picked up the milk. It had a slight fishy taste; but it was cool and eptable.
Most importantly, it was her thoughtfulness<b>–</b>she saw through his act and his deliberate caring, but didn’t expose him.
She’s really grown up a lot since the Shadow Peaks.
But he felt a bit heartbroken, because the way she coaxed him to drink milk was probably how she used to help Rosemary take medicine.
She once truly considered the Bloodmoon Pack as family, and genuinely wanted to spend her life with Ulrik.
Those people didn’t deserve her loyalty.
A sh of fierceness crossed Lance’s eyes–Snke’s revenge on Velda was too mild.
He thought humiliating Velda would make hermit suicide like the son of the Western Tribe Lycan King. But she was still alive and well.
“What are you thinking about?” Adide asked when she noticed his sudden cold gaze.
Lance’s expression darkened. He shook his head. “Nothing. We’ll talk about itter.”
At that moment, Tommy tactfully invited Beata and the others. “Let’s eat next door.”
Beata understood they might have something serious to discuss. She asked the waiter to move the dishes to the neighboring room.
Now, it was just the two of them in the private room.
“Is there something bothering you?” Adide asked.
Lance looked at her. “I was thinking about how patient you must have been with Rosemary when you were taking care of her in the Bloodmoon Pack. You treated the Tenar family as your own, yet they all betrayed you. It makes me angry.”
“And Velda–she seems to have gotten off too lightly. Even the whip was taken by Ulrik for her.”
Adide thought for a moment. “Maybe. But I believe Lycan Erasmus will handle it carefully. He might discharge her from the army. Then she’ll just be an ordinary Luna, taking care of her mate.”
She remembered how Velda once proudly said she <b>disdained </b>fighting with ordinary she<b>–</b>wolves.
But now it seems she will end up living the life she despised. It <b>was </b>foreseeable.
Lance asked, “The tragedy that befell your family was indirectly rted to her. Don’t you want to kill her?<b>” </b>
Adide had thought about this question many times<b>. </b>
She frowned. “Killing her would be easy, but would that be revenge? The Western Tribe doesn’t publicly expose her misdeeds at the Bloodscar Border. If I kill her, it won’t truly be revenge. Exposing the truth would be revenge, but the Western Tribe chooses to cover it up, and Lycan Erasmus won’t make it public either.”
“This would be detrimental to our kingdom and wouldbel our werewolf warriors as ‘cruel and heartless. So, this grudge is hard to avenge, and the cost is too high.”
In fact, both of them were well aware of the situation, yet they couldn’t let go.
Velda’s existence was like a thorn in their hearts.
<b>3/3 </b>