?Chapter 908:


    And I, the puppet master, would swoop in at the most opportune moment to assist Edward, earning his profound gratitude. Consumed by grief and vengeance, he would nurture a burning hatred toward the Pierce family and willingly be a pawn in my greater scheme.


    But who could have anticipated that Alden, that fool, would block the knife for Ailyn?


    This unexpected act of heroism hadpletely unraveled the tapestry of my carefully woven ns.


    Now, not only would Edward fail to despise the Pierce family, but he might actually feel indebted to them.


    The very thought ignited something primal and dangerous within me—a murderous intention that zed white-hot behind my calcted exterior.


    I could not allow this to happen!


    If Edward couldn’t be manipted to serve my purposes, then I was left with only one recourse—to erase him from the equation entirely.


    Makenna’s POV:


    In mere moments, I watched transfixed as the gaping wound on Alden’s abdomen—once drenched in crimson—began to knit itself together at a pace that defied all naturalw.


    The torn fabric of his shirt and the dark stains spreading across it were the only evidence that what I had witnessed wasn’t some cruel trick of the mind.


    I stood paralyzed, my thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. Time seemed to stretch into eternity before my voice returned, fragile and uncertain. “Alden… who… who are you really?”


    Alden eased himself upright, his back pressed against the weathered wall behind him. His eyes remained downcast, unkempt hair falling like a veil across his features, shielding whatever emotions yed across his face.


    The silence between us grew heavy before he finally raised his gaze to meet mine. “Who do you think I am?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


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    In that heartbeat, a thousand possibilities crashed through my mind like waves against a shore.


    Then, a single thought struck me with such force it stole the breath from my lungs.


    Could it be that Alden was a white wolf?


    Before I could voice my suspicion, Alden lunged forward with lightning speed.


    In a heartbeat, his fingers encircled my throat.


    I stared at him, terror coursing through my veins, yet what I saw in his eyes wasn’t malice but profound sorrow, underscored by a helplessness that seemed bottomless.


    “I’m sorry, Ailyn,” he murmured, his voice quavering with anguish. “I really like you. If it weren’t for my special identity, I would willingly die to save you. But now, I can’t… I can’t let my identity be exposed, or my family will be in real danger…”


    With each word, his grip tightened like a vise around my neck. The air in my lungs became precious, each shallow breath a battle. I wed desperately at his hand, fighting to create even the smallest space between his fingers, and managed to force out words that might save my life. “White wolf… I am too…”


    The instant those words left my lips, Alden’s expression transformed. The pressure at my throat vanished as his hands fell away.


    Like a marite with severed strings, I copsed backward, my body hitting the ground with a dull thud as I gulped down sweet, precious air.


    Alden dropped to a crouch before me, seizing my wrist with urgent fingers. “What did you just say? What do you mean by that?”


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