Burn in the Alpha Princess's Wrath novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38 The Song of the She–Wolf

Leslie’s POV – Moon Bar

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This Moon Bar was nothing like the one Astrid had taken me to before. It was far more refined, one of the more upscale venues in Central City, where even non–wolf darkbloods occasionally made an appearance.

Still, for all its polish, the air was just as thick with the heady scent of moonshine, sweat, pheromones, and primal energy–standard for any place wolves gathered to unwind.

Tonight, I was here with my sisters–Astrid and Amala Wood–to celebrate what we called my “rebirth.”

“To the Queen’s freedom!” Astrid cheered, lifting a crystal glass, her smile bright and unfiltered.

“To freedom!” Amala echoed.

I laughed, raised my glass, and clinked theirs before downing the burning liquid in one go.

The warmth of their friendship blazed through me, melting the frost left by betrayal. Asphodel let out a satisfied growl from within. It relished this moment–this true, untarnished Pack bond.

But peace, as always, was short–lived.

Across the room, I spotted two figures I’d rather never see again–Kirby and Leiss. The latter looked like he’d barely survived a storm. Clearly, the fallout from the scandal still clung to him.

Our eyes met. The atmosphere around our booth grew tense in an instant.

The stench of resentment and bitterness clung to Leiss like rot. He was muttering something venomous to Kirby–words like “bitch” and “revenge” were easy to catch, even from here.

Astrid’s canines bared on instinct. A low growl rumbled from her throat until I gave her a look.

Not tonight. Not for a defeated mutt like him.

Just then, the stage lights shifted. The lead vocalist–a charismatic vampire with wild hair- finished an explosive anthem. His gaze swept the crowd until it landed on me,

“Well, well. Look who we have here,” he said into the mic, grinning wide. “An old friend returns. to grace us tonight! What do you say, folks? Shall we invite the Queen who once made the moon cry with her voice to sing for us again?”

The bar erupted in wild applause and howls.

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Chapter 38 The Song of the She–Wolf

“Leslie! Get up there!” Astrid and Amala shouted in unison, egging me on.

I blinked, then smiled.

Fine. Let Kirby see the real me–the version he never knew, never cared to know.

I rose, graceful and calm, and made my way to the stage as the crowd parted like water.

The vampire hugged me warmly and handed me the mic.

I didn’t glance at Kirby. Instead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Then, I began to sing.

Not a human song, but a nearly extinct lament passed down through the royal werewolf bloodline–an ancient dirge sung only in the old tongue of wolves.

It was raw, hoarse, heavy with the desolation of tundras and the sorrow of icy winds.

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It told the story of a proud she–wolf who had once sheathed her claws for love, only to be betrayed… and who then rose from blood and fire to reclaim herself.

There were no instruments. Only my voice. But it echoed like a thousand wolfs crying and roaring in unison.

Asphodel’s power flowed with every note, surging into the room, striking the soul of every wolf present like lightning through the marrow.

Kirby’s POV – Moon Bar

I stared at her, stunned.

She wore a flowing dress of silver–gray. Under the lights, it shimmered like molten moonlight.

There was nothing timid or soft about her anymore. She was radiant, composed. Every note she sang carried an intensity that made my skin crawl–with awe, with something I didn’t want

to name.

It wasn’t just a song. It was prophecy.

In her voice, I saw the frozen wastes and a sun setting crimson across blood–stained snow. I saw a queen walking barefoot over bones to seize her throne.

This was Leslie?

It couldn’t be.

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Chapter 38 The Song of the She Wolf

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The Leslie I knew during our three years of marriage never raised her voice. She kept the house spotless, catered to my mother’s every whim, and looked at me with cautious devotion when I came home–rarely.

When had she learned this lost lament–one said to be carried only in royal blood?

When had she mastered the ability to weave Alpha–level spiritual force into her song, enough to move the soul of every wolf in the room?

Inside me, Lance whimpered. He felt it more keenly than I ever could–the raw power of Leslie’s voice, the truth buried in her howl.

It was the sound of something long chained… breaking free.

I never knew her.

The realization landed like molten iron on my chest, branding me with guilt and regret.

I hadn’t lost a treasure–I’d cast it into the abyss myself.

And she had climbed out of it.

When the final note faded, the entire bar erupted–howls, cheers, thunderous applause.

Leslie nodded gracefully, descending from the stage.

Then I saw him–tall, sharp–jawed, and unmistakably protective. Eric, the Alpha heir of Northfrost Pack, met her at the steps. He draped a shawl around her shoulders, his gaze filled with admiration and–no, possessiveness.

Eric?

Since when did they know each other?

My fists clenched under the table, out of sight.

And I sat there, unseen, watching the woman I’d discarded shine in a way I never imagined.

And it was too late.

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