Chapter 30: Her Sovereign Purity Was Untouched

The supreme Lycan King possessed full tactical intelligence confirming the chalice was compromised, yet his biological radar failed to calculate his predatory system would yield to the venom with such catastrophic velocity.

Ever since a dark winter cycle several seasons prior—when an enemy clan executed a treacherous chemical ambush to force his beast into an unnatural heat period—his throat had maintained an absolute, total rejection of the fire-water.

But tonight, observing Anna deploy her toxic traps to breach Clara Thorne’s perimeter, only to watch the stubborn female refuse to emit a solitary mind-link signal petitioning his sovereign protection, a violent swell of pure possessive wrath had paralyzed his intellect!

Did her rogue spirit calculate his royal shadow was less vital than alternate alpha lords? Was his majesty entirely unworthy of her submission, even when outer hyenas forced her back against the absolute cliffside?

He had intentionally swallowed the chemical poison Anna harvested, executing a high-risk tactical trial to intercept how Clara’s inner wolf would react to his compromise.

She had behaved with flawless compliance, permitting his iron fingers to clamp around her wrist and tracking his vanguard out of the stronghold.

Yet the exact second she breached his armored fleet, her vocal cords launched that clinical inquiry regarding his motives—a precise, freezing baritone that communicated her absolute intent to slice their lifelines apart, demanding an absolute clearance of their ledgers.

His beast fiercely detested her distance. In the initialization cycle, his intellect had branded her a clinical, unfeeling rogue; yet, tracking her movements with the Dowager Luna, her aura transformed into total warmth, her lips bestowing soft, beautiful smiles even upon low-born tavern attendants.

Exclusively when her green eyes locked onto his majestic form did her system construct an unyielding wall of lethal vigilance, simulating a fragile rabbit preparing to bolt from a clearing, evaluating his sovereign entity as a catastrophic predator threatening her survival.

His claws had never sliced through her flesh; by what law of the stars did her spirit subject his name to such freezing isolation?!

"My presence was already preparing to execute a total retreat; your vocal cords possess zero leverage to command my banishment."

Clara violently shoved the reinforced portal open, preparing to descend into the snow storm, when her emerald gaze caught the reflection within the dashboard crystal—Alpha King Dominic Vance had sealed his amber eyes, his massive form collapsing into total unconsciousness across the command seat.

"Hold! Dominic? Command your inner beast to awaken!"

At this terrifying threshold, Clara completely dropped her defensive fury, her hands launching across the console to violently shake his massive shoulders; yet his powerfully sculpted frame was entirely limp, unmasking zero biological frequency of recovery.

Pure psychological terror pushed tears to the brink of her eyelids; regardless of how reckless Anna’s bloodline ran, the female possessed zero treasonous authority to execute a royal assassination via poison!

"Negative... my system must launch an immediate tactical rescue frequency."

Clara’s mechanical driving permit was anchored exclusively within the foreign human realms, rendering her incapable of navigating the heavy Lycan fleet through the mountain passes to reach the central pack fortress.

Plunging her trembling fingers into her tactical satchel to harvest her tracking device, she registered in absolute horror that her flesh was vibrating with chaotic panic.

"Dominic Vance, you magnificent curse upon my trail... your life force is forbidden from dissolving tonight!"

Clara bit her lower lip until the metallic tang cleared her focus, unleashing a sequence of deep diaphragmatic breaths to lock down her terror. Her consciousness must maintain absolute strategic equilibrium; if her psychological shields fractured now, the supreme Alpha King’s survival index would plunge to absolute zero.

Concurrently, across the territory, outside the high-tier tavern gates.

Following the abrupt, thunderous departure of the Lycan King, the executive cabinet completely lost the spiritual alignment required to sustain the tribunal feast, fracturing into immediate retreat.

"Anna, restrain your inner wolf from excessive despair; our tracking nodes instantly decoded that the female was merely a parasitic enchantress."

"Precisely; her rogue scent undoubtedly deployed forbidden charms to compromise the Alpha's focus."

The surrounding pack members calculated that Anna’s contorted, pale countenance was triggered exclusively because Clara Thorne had bypassed her perimeter to ride within the King's fleet, unleashing a cascade of pack flattery to soothe her pride.

They remained totally blind to the reality that Anna’s consciousness was paralyzed by a catastrophic terror—Dominic Vance had consumed the chemical fire-water intended for a female!

Her hands had harvested that specific serum from a dark-market dealer running within the outer human borderlands; the runic manual explicitly swore that once any resilient female swallowed the fluid, her primitive heat period would instantly rupture, forcing her system to submit to the nearest male predator, even if the entity was a common mountain ape.

However, her frantic digital text to the black-market dealers had just yielded a lethal counter-strike: the alchemists stated with absolute certainty that the serum was strictly engineered for female anatomy; if a dominant Alpha King drained the chalice, his vital organs would suffer a violent, paralyzing shutdown!

How could Dominic survive the cross-contamination? If his royal bloodline failed, the enforcers would trace the treason straight to her house!

"Shall our cabinet navigate to the central pleasure chambers to unleash our wolves in song?"

"An excellent campaign! Anna, does your vanguard command the line?"

Under standard parameters, Anna’s pride would have instantly assumed sovereignty over the revelry, yet at this hour, her internal shields were entirely shattered.

"My presence is executing an immediate retreat to my paternal stronghold."

"Ha? Your vanguard departs at such an early watch?" Several low-tier wolves emitted displeased snarls; after all, if the wealthy Lord's daughter vacated the field, who would transfer the material gold to settle the tavern's massive ledger?

Anna ignored their low-frequency whining, launching her arm to command a passing transport vehicle.

Yet the journey had barely bridged the mid-territory lines when the path froze into a massive, stagnant blockade of idling fleets.

Staring out at the dense, black iron dragon of trapped vehicles, Anna’s psychological friction escalated to absolute fury.

"Operator! What structural failure has paralyzed this transport trail for such an excessive watch?"

"The network broadcasts that an elite predator has suffered a sudden, catastrophic biological collapse; the enforcers are clearing an absolute tactical lane to permit the medical vanguard transit." The operator indicated his digital frequency, mapping the reality for her ears.

By some dark omen of the blood, the exact second the word "collapse" struck her auditory nodes, Anna’s heart experienced a violent, sickening plunge.

Right on schedule, a high-speed medical transport vehicle cut through the blinding snow from the opposite clearing.

Piercing the reinforced glass barrier, Anna's tracking lenses locked onto the interior—seated right within the command bay was the unmistakable silhouette of Clara Thorne!

And stretched across the glowing medical altar, fighting for his final breath, was none other than Alpha King Dominic Vance!

Within a single heartbeat, Anna’s entire biological frame turned to absolute stone.

She violently dropped her skull beneath the window line, her inner wolf howling with a cowardly, treacherous guilt, terrified that Clara’s green eyes would intercept her profile.

Dominic Vance had truly suffered an absolute systemic failure; if the Ancient Royal Council traced the catalyst, her family lineage would be completely purged from the pack records!

"Ring... Ring..."

A sharp, vibrating chime ruptured the suffocating silence of the transport cabin.

Glaring down at the runic name flashing across her screen, a wave of profound, lethal disgust hardened Anna’s eyes. Yet an insidious strategy suddenly sparked within her dark intellect; her pupils rolled with calculating malice as her fingers swiped to unlock the audio channel.

"Jaxon, deploy your sensory nodes and calculate what magnificent catastrophe my eyes have just harvested."

Across the vast territory miles, the alpha male commanding the opposite line froze in brief stagnation. This marked the absolute initialization cycle where her arrogant voice had complied with his communication link on the primary pulse.

"Reveal the target."

"Your ultimate nemesis and an unaligned rogue female... currently stretched together across a royal medical altar, navigating the death-paths."

Anna deliberately crafted her syllables with a dense, ambiguous fog, intending to seduce Jaxon’s predatory curiosity until his focus was entirely hooked on the mystery.

"Anna... does your own physical frame harbor any damage from the blast?"

Defying her calculations, Jaxon’s primary vocal response was saturated with immediate, unbidden concern for her own safety.

Anna’s breath hitched, an intense wave of irritation clawing at her throat. "My territory remains entirely unbroken; cease unleashing your weak curses upon my name! This tactical data... I require the Ancestral Vance Council to intercept it immediately. My intellect assumes your comprehension tracks my design?"

Her strategy was to transfer the total blame of Dominic's collapse onto Clara Thorne’s rogue shoulders; the ultimate method to execute this assassination of character was to deploy a proxy weapon—forcing this infatuated, useful idiot Jaxon to broadcast the bards' tale to the elders.

Once the Vance High Council intercepted the ledger stating Dominic had suffered a systemic collapse while trapped within a rogue’s den under the influence of heat-inducing toxins, Clara Thorne would find zero waters across the continent pure enough to cleanse her name.

Even when the supreme Lycan King eventually broke through his coma to reconstruct the absolute truth, his voice would be entirely too late; the ancient elders would have already executed a total clearance of Clara's existence.

Once the plague known as Clara was permanently purged from the territory, Dominic’s wild wolf would naturally abandon his hostile posture toward her line. She would then unveil her authentic sovereign identity as the ultimate heiress of the Li Clan, petitioning her father to negotiate a formal mating treaty with the Vance throne—Dominic would inevitably be secured within her cages.

"My wolves shall execute the mandate. Your business shall be finalized across the council chambers with absolute precision."

Jaxon dropped into a long, heavy silence, before the sound of a matching flint striking a cigar vibrated across the frequency. He released a ragged breath. "Cease pouring your spirit into that monarch's shadow, Anna; the campaign yields absolute zero utility. His predatory nature has eternally rejected the matrix of your specific breed."

"Reveal the matrix his beast desires then!"

"The breed currently fighting for survival by his side."

Anna was completely choked by his lethal counter-strike, entirely incapable of forging a defensive syllable, the suffocating fury inside her chest expanding until her lungs burned.

"To the underworld with your tongue!" she screamed, violently severing the connection.

Her obsession to conquer Dominic Vance was fundamentally rooted in her past coupling with Jaxon. He and Dominic had run within the same nursing packs since their awakening, sharing a decade of brutal academic rivalries, yet Jaxon’s bloodline had been consistently crushed beneath Dominic's supreme prowess at every single turn.

Jaxon had sworn a blood oath to harvest a prize the Lycan King could never equal.

Consequently, when the territory rumors broadcasted that Dominic Vance harbored a passing fascination for the supreme campus Luna of the Financial Sect, Jaxon had deployed an aggressive, overwhelming courtship campaign to ensnare her first.

She had calculated she had captured an authentic fated love; yet, on the exact midnight she surrendered her physical form to his bed, her eyes intercepted the digital screen of Jaxon’s device—the male had already blasted their private intimate images across the elite pack channels, gloating to his pack of hyenas:

"The ultimate triumph over the Vance King is finalized by my claws. Her sovereign purity was untouched until my beast claimed the prize."