Chapter 60 What’s That Junk Worth, Anyway?
Leslie’s POV – Westview Office
+8 Pearls
Sure enough, the next day, Kirby’s assistant sent a message requesting a lunch meeting to “discuss the ownership of the Ancestor’s Fang.”
I had Liam reply directly: “No time. From now on, reject all meal invitations from Crimson Moon Pack without asking me.”
I wanted him to understand–he no longer even had the right to sit across a table and speak with me.
After being shut down, Kirby didn’t give up.
The following day, avish bouquet arrived at my office–over a hundred stalks of rare moonlight orchids, worth a small fortune.
The sender? Eric.
I nced at the card, sighed, and told Liam to toss it into the incinerator.
But it seemed Kirby took Eric’s gesture… the wrong way.
On the third day, a massive rune–engraved iron cage was delivered to the Governor’s Mansion, inside of which thrashed a rare, living Icefield Yeti–captured by the Crimson Moon Pack’s elite hunting squad. The beast was presented as a gift–for me.
The entire mansion was in an uproar.
I stared at the creature, radiating cold fury inside its cage, then looked down at the handwritten apology letter from Kirby. All I felt was absurd amusement.
He really thought that giving me a rare beast could somehow make up for the sins of the three years? That clumsily copying Eric’s approach would change the way I saw him?
In front of everyone, I issued my
order.
past
“ughter the yeti. Have its pelt made into a rug for my throne room. Its meat goes to the patrol squads on duty tonight. As for its skull–send it back to Crimson Moon Pack. And let them know… the Alpha Kirby’s generosity is appreciated.”
Sending the bloodied skull back to Crimson Moon Pack wasn’t just symbolic–it was a fresh gallon of oil dumped onto an already burning fire.
The PackNet across the entire Westview continent exploded.
Chapter 60 What’s That Junk Worth, Anyway?
Every werewolf now knew: Governor Leslie of Rogue Pack and her ex–husband Kirby of Crimson Moon Pack were far beyond reconciliation.
After receiving the bloody skull, Kirby wentpletely silent.
No more messages. No more gifts.
I knew he had finally realized–no material offering could ever mean a thing to me.
The quiet suited me. I threw myself fully into the Moon Goddess Relic project.
n’s research was progressing quickly, and our coboration had be seamless.
One day, after a long multi–hour video meeting, I felt drained.
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To unwind, I logged into my long–neglected Moonbook ount–a social tform with heavy influence among the upper circles of werewolf society.
I nced at the Ancestor’s Fang sitting at the edge of my desk, carelessly used to weigh down a stack of documents. A sly smile crept across my face.
I picked up my terminal and snapped a close–up of the relic’s jagged surface–then uploaded it to my Moonbook profile with a short caption:
“Someone said this is a fang from some unknown beast. No idea if it’s real or not. Anyone know what this thing’s worth?”
By calling the Ancestor’s Fang “a fang from some unknown beast,” I was delivering an insult of the highest order.
I was telling everyone that the sacred relic Crimson Moon Pack worshiped as a treasure was, in my eyes, just a worthless trinket–so beneath me I couldn’t even be bothered to verify where it came from.
After posting it, I tossed the terminal aside and leaned back to rest.
I fell asleep just like that, totally unaware of the tidal wave my casual little post had just unleashed across the werewolf world.
Astrid and Eric immediately reshared it–each adding their own gloating reactions.
It didn’t take long for the post to reach Kirby’s circles.
I could already imagine the old Alpha of Crimson Moon Pack–staring at his family’s ancestral relic, now dismissed as “some worthless junk” by his former daughter–inw–and fuming so hard he couldn’t even eat that night.
Chapter 60 What’s That Junk Worth, Anyway?
As for Belle and Slyvana… I had no doubt they caught more than a few ps.
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