r 190 The Sacrifice

    bLeslie’s /bPOV

    When I came to again, I realized I was tightly bound with coarse sinew–torn from some unknown beastshed to a massive, cold stone b that reeked iof /iblood.

    Finished

    I looked around. I was in a sprawling, primitive vige. Crude huts built from giant logs and animal hides encircled the central clearing where Iy.

    At the center of the clearing, a bonfire zed sky–high.

    Above it hung a monstrous totem, formed from countless animal skulls–gruesome and massive.

    Hundreds of beastkin surrounded the altar, packed in tightly.

    They stared at me with a mix of reverence and greed in their eyes.

    Overhead, a blood–red full moon cast an ominous glow across the sky.

    And I understood.

    This was a ritual.

    And I… I was the offering. A sacrifice to their savage god.

    “These mongrels dare use our blood to please their filthy deity?!” Asphodel snarled in my mind, his voice filled with Leslie’s signature pride and wrath. “Leslie! Break free! If this is to be our end, then let thisnd be stained with itheir /iblood!”

    I forced my power to surge, desperate to break free of these cursed bindings.

    My Alpha pheromones exploded outward,ced with royal dominance, sweeping through the air like a storm.

    But the tendons holding me down were inscribed with some ancient magic–meant to suppress power.

    No matter how hard I struggled, they wouldn’t budge.

    Then a massive figure ascended the altar–a tribal chieftain with the towering build of a minotaur.

    He raised a huge stone axe, forged entirely from a single hunk of obsidian, crude and heavy, and began to chant an ancient, brutal hymn.

    Chapter 190 The Sacrifice

    All the beastkin fell prostrate, howling in ecstasy.

    The stone axe gleamed under the bloody moonlight with a deadly chill.

    Leslie’s POV

    The minotaur chieftain held the axe high, poised to strike at my heart.

    This was it.

    I closed my eyes, ready to meet death.

    But the pain never came.

    I opened my eyes in confusion—and saw a new figure stepping onto the altar.

    1

    Finished

    A beastkin shaman, cloaked in pelts, his face painted with strange pigments, and a massive bone mask obscuring his features, raised a hand to halt the descending axe.

    He began to speak, unleashing a strange string of guttural, animalistic sybles—arguing with the chieftain.

    In his hand was a censer, from which poured thick, ck smoke.

    The fumes wafted toward me.

    Dozens of unfamiliar herbs burned inside–potent enough to paralyze, to distort the mind.

    But even in that haze–so dense it could drown the senses–my Alpha instincts caught it.

    A single, faint thread buried beneath it all.

    Cold. Sharp. Like wind and snow from the farthest north.

    A werewolf’s pheromone.

    Hope ignited in me like wildfire, zing through my frozen chest.

    I wasn’t alone.

    There was another of my kind here.

    I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. But I could still control my pheromones.

    I concentrated every ounce of mental strength and released a trace–so faint only another Alpha wolf could detect it–a coded scent

    Chapter 190 The Sacrifice

    My mother taught it to me.

    Finished

    The highest–level distress signal passed between pureblood wolves in moments of absolute danger.

    The masked shaman froze.

    Beneath that bone mask, a pair of sharp, shocked eyes pierced the smoke–locked with mine.

    He had received it.

    Send Gifts

    。

    138

    Burn in the Alpha Princess’s Wrath