A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Third Person’s POV

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Dwight’s face turned pale. His wolf claws dug into his palms, blood dripping onto the stone bricks beneath his feet.

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He never expected things to escalate this far. He’d anticipated mere verbal reprimands.

“Lycan Erasmus, I know I’m wrong… no, I’m guilty. Please show mercy,” he pleaded in a panic, his voice cracking. The parliamentary hall echoed with his whiny wails.

His wolf howled in agony, sensing the darkness of his future.

His pheromones reeked of sulfur, and his once sharp wolf eyes were now dull.

The authority of the wolf parliament was unshakable, and Dwight’s fate was sealed by Lycan Erasmus’s verdict–a divine judgment from the wolf deity, irrevocable-

“Drag him out!” Lycan Erasmus commanded with a wave of his hand. noveldrama

Dwight, whom he had personally promoted, now disgusted him with his disgraceful conduct.

Guards hauled Dwight away. He wailed all the way, begging for forgiveness, his former arrogance replaced by utter humiliation.

“Summon Ulrik!” Lycan Erasmus barked in fury.

Ulrik entered the hall. Lycan Erasmus, noting his pale face and dark circles, recalled his repeated attempts to trust and elevate him–only to see him crumble like mud.

The Lycan King roared across the hall, “What kind of pack is your Bloodmoon? You run a private interrogation room and break civilians‘ limbs? If your pack is all we need, why bother with a royal judiciary?”

Ulrik was clueless about the incident, but the royal inspector’s charges suggested someone had indeed lodged a complaint.

With no defense, he could only apologize repeatedly, “Lycan Erasmus, please forgive my mistake. Lycan Erasmus, please calm down.”

“How am I to calm down? I sent you to apologize with Velda, but when Penelope refused you, you just turned and left. Is that how you apologize? Instead of seeking forgiveness, you take out your frustration on civilians? You deserve the garbage dumped on you–I’m tempted to throw it in your face myself!”

Lycan Erasmus’s anger was uncontained.

Ulrik had sorely disappointed him.

Had he not personally approved his mating with Velda and recognized his military merits, why bother promoting him?

He’d given him chances to save face, but Ulrik had proven incompetent.

07:46 Wed, 16 Júl Jo

No official present defended him–not even Gloria’s cousin.

Supporting him would invite the Stormridge Pack’s wrath.

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Ulrik realized he might lose even his capital guard position, a mix of despair and humiliation welling up in him.

“I accept my fault. Please punish me, Lycan Erasmus. I’ll apologize to Penelope again and seek her forgiveness,” he choked out.

Lycan Erasmus, recalling Ulrik’s former glory, now saw a pathetic figure.

His chest heaved as he remembered the Bloodmoon Pack’s old general. What would he think of his descendants‘ inadequacy?

Coldly, he declared, “Ulrik has failed to manage his pack, breeding chaos and neglecting his duties. He’s demoted to a common capital guard. One more mistake, and I’ll strip Bloodmoon of its autonomy. This is your final chance.”

Ulrik felt as if struck by thunder, his mind blank.

Pale as a ghost, he prostrated himself. “Thank you for your mercy, Lycan Erasmus!” he rasped, remaining motionless under the weight of everyone’s gaze.

The presence of Alpha Lance was especially mortifying.

He dreaded seeing Alpha Lance, or rather, he dreaded being seen in such a miserable state by Alpha Lance.

After the mating ceremony, intruders had assaulted Ulrik in the Bloodmoon Pack’s yard, hooding and beating him.

He suspected Alpha Lance, given a prior altercation.

Yet without proof, he kept silent.

He didn’t want to admit it. It would lose face, showing the Bloodmoon Pack’s security was a joke. Worse, it would reveal he, a werewolf general, was attacked in his own pack, with the culprit still unknown.

With evidence, he would have accused Lance of abusing his royal status and military honors.

“Leave now!” Lycan Erasmus’s voice boomed overhead.

Ulrik retreated, hunched and sensing/Lance’s scornful gaze. Shame and fury burned within him.

Back at the Bloodmoon Pack, he headed straight for Velda’s “Forget–Me–Nottage.”

Once named otherwise, Velda had renamed it post breakup to spite Ulrik.

Seeing him, rarely in her yard, she froze. But noticing the darkness in his eyes, she stepped back. “What do you want?” she asked.

III

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07:46 Wed, 16 Jul