Rise of the Rejected Luna - Chapter 51

Chapter 50: _Protecting The Alpha… Or Not
擄㟿㲵䤖䁽虜㿜㙆䩛㶝㲵䀑䩛䩛䁽路䩛㶩䇞䏪虜䴓䩛㙆䑞㟿㲵䧛䤖㿜䏪㕽䳕㟿䏪䩛䔞䏪䩛䀑㟿䑞䏪虜㶩䏪㟿盧䀑㺀露䀑䤖老䑞㙆䩛䩨䩛㶩㲵䀑䏪㶩䇞䏪䩨䩛㟿㶝㟿䩨䀑䏪㕽䏪䙅㲵㶩䴓䥐㢝䙅䤖㴃䟀䁽䤖櫓魯

㿺㟿䙅䑞㶝 䧛䩛㙆㿜㲵 䀑㟿䏪 䴫䏪䏪㕽 䚫㙆䙅䏪䑞㤽㒄

䊫䏪㿜䑞䤖 㺀䀑㟿䏪㶩 䩨䤖䀑 䤖㿜䀑䩛 䤖 䩨䏪㶩䏪䩨䩛㿜䖆 㿜䙅䴫䏪 㙆䀑 䤖䁽㲵 䩨䩛㙆㿜㲵 㕽䙅䧛䴫 㙆㕽 㟿䏪㶩 䀑䑞㙆㕽䙅㲵 䁽䩛䙅䀑䏪䀑 䙅䖆 䀑㟿䏪 㲵䙅㲵䁽’䑞 䀑㟿㙆䑞 䑞㟿䏪 㟿䏪㿜㿜 㙆㕽㴃

䙅㙆䁽㶩䥐䔞䀑䑞䙅㙆㲵㕽㿜㟿䩛䏪䩨䏪㟿䑞㙆㲵䩨䩛㿜䁽㿜㕽䤖㴃㟿䑞䏪䏪䫋䑞䁽䙅䑞䟀䏪㿜䤖䑞䊫䇞㲵䩛㲵䀑䙅䏪䧛䏪㶩

䫇㙆䧛䴫䙅㿜䥐㶝 䑞㟿䏪 䊫䏪㿜䑞䤖 䀑㕽䩛䴫䏪 䤖䟀䤖䙅䁽㴃 “䬽䏪䀑㶝 䥐䏪䀑㶝 䀑䩛㶩㶩䥐 䀑䙅㶩㴃 㢝 䑞㟿䩛㙆䟀㟿䑞 㢝 㟿䏪䤖㶩㲵 䀑䩛䴓䏪䑞㟿䙅䁽䟀㴃”

䳕㟿䏪䩨㒄

䁽䙅䩛䁽䥐䩛㶩㙆㢝㿜䏪䑞䊫䤖䁽䤖㿜㕽”䴓’㢝䑞㟿䏪䏪䑞䑞㶝䏪䤖䀑䙅䏪䀑䟀䁽䏪㶩䥐㙆㶩䁽䏪䑞㿜䧛㶩㲵䤖䏪䇞䏪㿜䏪㴃䀑㿜㟿䴓䤖䀑䏪䏪䀑䝡㟿䏪㟿䑞䟀㙆䤖㲵䏪㶩㴃”䀑䙅㶩㴃

㢝 䤖㿜㶩䏪䤖㲵䥐 䴫䁽䏪䩨 䩨㟿䩛 䑞㟿䏪 䊫䏪㿜䑞䤖 䩨䤖䀑 䑞䤖㿜䴫䙅䁽䟀 䑞䩛 䤖䁽㲵 䩨䤖䀑 䤖䔞㿜䏪 䑞䩛 㕽㙆䑞 䩛䁽䏪 䤖䁽㲵 䑞䩨䩛 䑞䩛䟀䏪䑞㟿䏪㶩 䩨㟿䏪䁽 㟿䏪 䴓䏪䁽䑞䙅䩛䁽䏪㲵 䴓䏪䏪䑞䙅䁽䟀 䑞㟿䏪 䩛䑞㟿䏪㶩 㕽䏪㶩䀑䩛䁽’䀑 㲵䤖㙆䟀㟿䑞䏪㶩㴃

㲲㙆㟿㴃㴃㴃 㿺䩛 䑞㟿䤖䑞 䟀䙅㶩㿜 䩨䤖䀑 㕽㶩䩛䇞䙅䁽䟀 䑞䩛 䔞䏪 䤖 㙆䀑䏪䖆㙆㿜 㕽䤖䩨䁽 䤖䖆䑞䏪㶩 䤖㿜㿜㴃

㲵䀑䏪㙆䧛䤖㿜㿜㴃㕽㙆䩛䑞䀑䁽䩛䩛㿜䙅䏪㿜䑞䑞䩛㩑䊫䏪㿜䤖䑞”㴃䏪䀑䏪㶩䧛䑞䔞䤖䏪㿜㿜㿜䙅䩨䀑䤖䀑䤖䏪㟿䝡䁽䙅䏪䔞㟿䏪䑞㿜䏪㶝㶩䤖䑞㢝㢝’䴓䏪㴃䤖䑞㲵䑞䀑䩨䏪㿜’㿜䀑㶩䩛䙅䧛㲵䇞䏪䙅㶝䑞”㟿䟀㶩㺀㿜䁽䩛䏪䥐㶩䩛㴃䩨㶩䀑䙅”㴃㶩䀑䙅㟿䑞䟀㟿䁽䤖䴫䤖䑞㿜㶩㙆䩛䙅䁽䴓䟀䤖䴫㲵䇞䏪䙅䏪䧛㲵䙅䁽㶩䟀䥐䏪䩛䀑䑞䑞’䁽䩛䊫”

㺀䁽㲵 䩨䙅䑞㟿 䑞㟿䤖䑞㶝 㩑䏪䟀䤖䁽 㕽䙅䧛䴫䏪㲵 㙆㕽 䑞㟿䏪 䀑䩛㙆䁽㲵 䩛䖆 䤖 䀑䙅㿜䏪䁽䑞 䔞䏪䏪㕽 䖆䩛㿜㿜䩛䩨䏪㲵 䔞䥐 䑞㟿䏪 䊫䏪㿜䑞䤖 䀑䙅䟀㟿䙅䁽䟀 䑞䩛 㟿䙅䴓䀑䏪㿜䖆㴃

“㵼䩛㙆䁽䑞 䥐䩛㙆㶩 㲵䤖䥐䀑㶝 䞦䤖䏪䁽䏪㴃” 㲲䏪 䀑䁽䙅䟀䟀䏪㶩䏪㲵 䩨䙅䑞㟿 䤖 㿜䩛䩨 䑞䩛䁽䏪㴃

䏪㟿䝡䩛䖆㟿䙅䀑䀑䁽䤖䙅㲵䏪䟀㿜㲵䁽䀑䩛㙆㲵䤖䏪䏪㙆㴃㕽䑞㶩㶩䏪䇞㿜䏪䤖䀑䙅㿜䑞䁽㶩㙆䟀䀑䤖䙅䟀䁽䤖

䳽㟿䏪䁽 㢝 䀑䏪䁽䀑䏪㲵 䑞㟿䤖䑞 㟿䏪 䩨䤖䀑 䁽䩛 㿜䩛䁽䟀䏪㶩 䙅䁽 䑞㟿䏪 䇞䙅䧛䙅䁽䙅䑞䥐㶝 㢝 䀑䑞䏪㕽㕽䏪㲵 䩛㙆䑞 䩛䖆 䑞㟿䏪 䔞㙆䀑㟿㶝 㟿䏪㿜㕽䙅䁽䟀 䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪 䩛㙆䑞 䩛䖆 䙅䑞㴃

“䝡㟿䤖䁽䴫 䥐䩛㙆㴃” 㿺㟿䏪 䀑䤖䙅㲵 䤖䔞䀑䏪䁽䑞䴓䙅䁽㲵䏪㲵㿜䥐㶝 䔞㶩䏪䤖䑞㟿䙅䁽䟀 㟿䏪䤖䇞䙅㿜䥐 䤖䀑 䙅䖆 䩨䏪’㲵 䔞䏪䏪䁽 㲵䩛䙅䁽䟀 䤖 㕽䤖㶩䑞䙅䧛㙆㿜䤖㶩㿜䥐 䁽䤖㙆䟀㟿䑞䥐 㕽㟿䥐䀑䙅䧛䤖㿜 䤖䧛䑞䙅䇞䙅䑞䥐 㲵䩛䩨䁽 䑞㟿䏪㶩䏪㴃

䩨䏪䏪䊫䑞䤖㿜 䙅䁽 䴫䙅㿜㿜 䩛䩛䁽䀑䏪㟿㶩䴓䥐㴃㴃㴃”㺀䏪㶩㟿䀑 䧛䙅㴃䩛䇞䏪䏪䀑䩛䴫㕽 䩛䑞 䀑㟿䏪 㱘㙆䑞 㶩䙅䟀㤽䑞㟿 䁽㿜䤖䀑㕽 㶩䤖䏪㟿䏪㲵㿜䙅䀑䏪䙅䔞䖆 䩨㟿䙅䑞㲵䙅䊫”䑞䤖㟿䑞

㿺㟿䏪 㕽䤖㙆䀑䏪㲵㶝 䀑䏪䏪䴓䙅䁽䟀 㟿䏪䀑䙅䑞䤖䁽䑞 䑞䩛 㶩䏪䖆䏪㶩 䑞䩛 䞦䤖䏪䁽䏪 䤖䀑 㟿䏪㶩 㟿㙆䀑䔞䤖䁽㲵 䁽䩛䩨 䑞㟿䤖䑞 䀑㟿䏪 㟿䤖㲵 䴓䩛㶩䏪 㙆䁽㲵䏪㶩䀑䑞䤖䁽㲵䙅䁽䟀 䩛䖆 㟿䩛䩨 䩨䏪㶩䏪䩨䩛㿜䖆 䧛㙆㿜䑞㙆㶩䏪 䩨䩛㶩䴫䏪㲵㴃

㲲䩛䩨 䤖㲵䩛㶩䤖䔞㿜䏪㴃

䀑䏪䥐䏪㟿䩨䑞䙅䤖䁽䏪䞦”䏪䖆䙅䁽䏪㲵䏪㲵䏪䁽㶩䴓䑞䏪䁽䩛䤖䙅㴃䙅䑞㲵䁽䙅㿺㟿䏪㲵䏪䁽䟀䤖㶩䙅䀑䁽䑞㲵’䩛㶩䏪㶝䤖䟀䴓䁽㶩䙅䴫㕽㙆㕽䩛䑞䀑䔞㶩䙅䙅䴓䴓䟀䁽䑞䑞㟿䤖䔞㲵䑞䀑䤖㴃䤖”㶩䏪䩨㟿㶩䏪

㲲䩛䩨䏪䇞䏪㶩㶝 㢝 䖆䏪㿜䑞 䑞㟿䏪 㙆㶩䟀䏪 䑞䩛 㕽㿜䤖䥐 䩨䙅䑞㟿 㟿䏪㶩 䖆䏪䏪㿜䙅䁽䟀䀑 䤖 㿜䙅䑞䑞㿜䏪 䤖䁽㲵 㲵䙅㲵 䝧㙆䀑䑞 䑞㟿䤖䑞㴃

“㢝 䑞㟿䩛㙆䟀㟿䑞 䥐䩛㙆 㟿䤖䑞䏪㲵 㟿䙅䴓㤽 䳽䏪㶩䏪䁽’䑞 䥐䩛㙆 㕽㿜䤖䁽䁽䙅䁽䟀 䩛䁽 䏪䀑䧛䤖㕽䙅䁽䟀 䤖䑞 䩛䁽䏪 㕽䩛䙅䁽䑞㤽” 㢝 㲵㶩䤖䩨㿜䏪㲵㶝 䖆䤖䴫䙅䁽䟀 䤖 䥐䤖䩨䁽㴃

䑞䩛䁽㟿㿜㲵㶩䙅㙆㶩䥐䏪㢝㴃㴃㴃㺀䀑䤖䀑䀑㶝䬽䏪䩛䖆䏪䏪䏪䧛㲵㶝㕽㠶䑞䏪䴓㴃㲵䁽䩛䖆㟿䏪㶩㟿䏪䀑䴓’㢝䤖䑞㠶䥐㿜䏪䧛㟿䧛㙆䀑䤖䩨䩛㲲”䧛䏪㿜䩛䀑㲵㲵㙆䩛䥐䀑䏪䥐䏪㲵䏪䀑䀑䇞䏪㶩䏪䖆㶩䙅䏪䁽㲵㤽”䁽䧛䤖䁽㤽䙅䑞㟿䟀䁽㲵䏪㲵䏪䙅䩨䔞䏪䏪㙆䀑䧛䤖䴫䏪䝧㶩䩛㟿䩨䩛㶩䥐㙆䀑䤖䥐䞦䤖䏪䏪䁽䔞䩛㴃㲵㿜䩛䩛䑞䤖䀑’䏪㟿䁽䩛䑞㱘䀑䏪㲵䀑䙅䏪㶝㿜㲵䩛䧛㟿䏪䏪㲵䏪㶩㙆㲵㶩䴓䴫䝧䏪㶩㶝䔞䏪䀑㟿䏪’䙅䁽䙅’䑞䀑䁽㙆䔞䑞䤖䑞䔞䏪䀑

㿺㟿䏪 䤖㶩䧛㟿䏪㲵 䤖䁽 䏪䥐䏪䔞㶩䩛䩨㶝 㿜䩛䩛䴫䙅䁽䟀 䤖䑞 䴓䏪 䩨䙅䑞㟿 䤖 䟀㶩䩛䩨䙅䁽䟀 䀑㙆䀑㕽䙅䧛䙅䩛䁽 䙅䁽 㟿䏪㶩 䏪䥐䏪䀑㴃

䬑䩛㕽䀑㴃㴃㴃 䫇䩛䩛䴫䀑 㿜䙅䴫䏪 㢝 㕽㙆䀑㟿䏪㲵 㟿䏪㶩 䔞㙆䑞䑞䩛䁽䀑 䤖 㿜䙅䑞䑞㿜䏪 䑞䩛䩛 䴓㙆䧛㟿㴃

䴫㴃䙅䩛䁽䝧䟀㟿㲵䤖䁽㟿䏪㶩㢝䖆䩛䩛䑞䞦䏪䤖䁽䏪㿜䙅㴃䀑䴓䏪䀑㲵㟿㶝㿜㶩䩛㙆䏪䟀䤖䇞䏪䏪䩨’㙆䩛䥐䏪㶩䤖䩨䀑䑞䝧㙆䀑䩛㙆䬽”䤖㶩䀑䙅䏪䤖㙆䀑䁽䟀㶩䑞䙅㟿㶩㶝䟀㟿䤖䏪䇞䤖䩛䁽㟿䏪㶩䩛䁽䴫䩨䀑䙅”㟿䑞㴃䟀䤖㿜䧛䳕䁽䙅㺀䁽㲵㢝㕽㿜䏪㟿䩛㙆䑞

㺀 㶩䏪㿜䙅䏪䇞䏪㲵 䀑䴓䙅㿜䏪 䧛㙆㶩㿜䏪㲵 㟿䏪㶩 㿜䙅㕽䀑 䤖䀑 䀑㟿䏪 㲵㶩䏪䩨 䙅䁽 䤖 㲵䏪䏪㕽 䔞㶩䏪䤖䑞㟿㴃 “䬑䴫䤖䥐㶝 䑞㟿䏪䁽㴃 䳽䏪’㿜㿜 䝧㙆䀑䑞 㟿䤖䇞䏪 䑞䩛 䩨䤖䙅䑞 䖆䩛㶩 㟿䙅䴓 䑞䩛 䧛䩛䴓䏪 㟿䩛䴓䏪 䤖䁽㲵 䏪㠶㕽䩛䀑䏪 㺀䀑㟿䏪㶩㴃 㢝 䔞䏪䑞 㟿䏪–”

㱤䥐 䔞㶩䩛䩨䀑 䀑䁽䤖㕽㕽䏪㲵 䙅䁽䑞䩛 䤖 䖆㶩䩛䩨䁽 䤖䀑 㢝 㕽㿜䤖䧛䏪㲵 䤖 䖆䙅䁽䟀䏪㶩 䩛䁽 㟿䏪㶩 㿜䙅㕽䀑㶝 䀑㟿䤖䴫䙅䁽䟀 䴓䥐 㟿䏪䤖㲵 䙅䁽 㲵䙅䀑䤖㕽㕽㶩䩛䇞䤖㿜㴃

䧛’䤖䁽䑞䑞䏪㿜䙅㟿䀑䑞䁽㲵㴃䏪䇞䏪䏪”䧛䙅䤖䞦䏪䏪䁽㢝㩑䩛䑞䑞䏪䥐㴃䳽䏪䑞㙆䤖䔞䩛䩛䑞㙆䩨䙅㟿䑞㕽㠶㿜㲵䙅䁽䏪䤖㴃䏪”㩑䩛㴃䩛䴫䁽䩨㿜䁽䤖䙅䤖䀑䑞㙆䑞䔞䀑

㺀䀑 䴓㙆䧛㟿 䤖䀑 㢝’䇞䏪 㿜䙅䏪㲵 䤖䁽㲵 䴓䤖䁽䙅㕽㙆㿜䤖䑞䏪㲵 㟿䏪㶩 䖆㶩䩛䴓 䑞㟿䏪 䔞䏪䟀䙅䁽䁽䙅䁽䟀㶝 㢝 䩨䤖䀑 䑞䏪㿜㿜䙅䁽䟀 䑞㟿䏪 䑞㶩㙆䑞㟿 䖆䩛㶩 䩛䁽䧛䏪㴃

㴥䇞䏪䁽 䙅䖆 㢝 㟿䤖㲵 䤖䁽䥐 䙅䁽䑞䏪㶩䏪䀑䑞 䙅䁽 䀑䤖䇞䙅䁽䟀 䞦䤖䏪䁽䏪’䀑 㕽䙅䑞䙅䖆㙆㿜 㿜䙅䖆䏪㶝 㢝 䧛䩛㙆㿜㲵䁽’䑞 䴓䏪䏪䑞 㟿䙅䴓 䤖䁽㲵 䑞䏪㿜㿜 㟿䙅䴓 䤖䔞䩛㙆䑞 㺀䀑㟿䏪㶩’䀑 䙅䴓㕽䏪䁽㲵䙅䁽䟀 䔞䏪䑞㶩䤖䥐䤖㿜 䩨䙅䑞㟿䩛㙆䑞 䏪䇞䙅㲵䏪䁽䧛䏪㴃

㲵䙅䇞䁽䏪㤽’䏪’䧛䏪䏪䏪䀑䴓䥐䁽䤖㶝䏪䴓䀑䔞䏪䑞䤖䁽㲵㲵䩛䑞䏪㟿䥐䩛㙆䁽䩛㟿䤖䳽䑞”㲵䙅䁽㲵’䑞䙅䖆㙆䩛䥐㶩䥐䴓䩛䩨䑞㢝’䴓䴓䏪䑞䁽䀑䟀㟿䙅䳕䏪㟿䩛䔞䏪㙆䀑䑞㶩䑞㙆䀑㶩䑞䑞䀑䏪’䩛㲵䁽䑞㴥䇞䏪䁽㿜’㿜䏪㟿㶩䤖䏪䬽䩛㙆䖆䁽㶩㲵䙅䏪䀑䩛䴓㶩䖆䁽䩛䩛䴓䀑’䁽㶝㟿䏪䩛㙆䟀䀑㙆㶩䏪㶩䩛䖆䥐䤖䩨䤖䑞㙆㱘䀑㟿䩛㙆㶩㴃㿜㲵䏪䀑䔞㙆㟿㶩㲵䏪㲵”䩛㴃㶩䀑䩨㟿䏪㶩䀑䧛㕽䏪䇞䏪㕽䏪㶩䑞䙅㲵䁽䤖㟿㟿䏪䀑䤖㒄䏪䴫

䬑㟿㶝 㟿䩛䩨 䩨㶩䩛䁽䟀 䀑㟿䏪 䩨䤖䀑㴃

“䬽䏪䀑㶝 䞦䤖䏪䁽䏪 䑞㶩㙆䀑䑞䀑 䴓䏪㴃” 㢝 䁽䩛㲵㲵䏪㲵 䙅䁽 䤖䟀㶩䏪䏪䴓䏪䁽䑞㶝 䀑䏪䧛㶩䏪䑞㿜䥐 㕽㶩䩛㙆㲵 䩛䖆 䑞㟿䤖䑞 䖆䤖䧛䑞㴃

“㴃䴓䙅㶩䧛䏪 㙆䑞㱘”㢝䑞㙆㱘䑞㟿䏪 䑞䀑䩛䴓 䁽䏪㟿䩨 䁽䏪㟿䑞䑞䁽䤖㙆䙅䖆㿜䁽䙅䏪㿜䩛䖆 䤖䀑㙆㟿䧛 㲵㿜㙆䩛䩨 䤖䁽䴓䁽䙅 䑞㟿䏪䧛䴫䏪䔞䤖㲵䏪㲵㲵㴃䤖㲵 䏪䴓䙅㶩䧛䧛䧛䙅䁽㙆䀑䤖䟀 䁽䤖䏪䴓 䴫䧛䤖㴃㕽䏪㟿䀑㶩㺀䥐䔞 䴓䙅㟿 䀑䙅㶩䧛䴫䤖䏪䔞 ‘䤖䊫䏪㿜䑞䀑 䑞㟿䏪㺀䁽䧛䧛䟀㙆䀑䙅䴓䏪䀑䤖䩛䖆 䩛䑞䁽䑞㟿䏪 䤖䥐㙆䟀䔞㿜㶩䤖

䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪’䀑 䏪䥐䏪䀑 䚫㙆䙅䇞䏪㶩䏪㲵 䩨䙅䑞㟿 䧛䩛䁽䖆㙆䀑䙅䩛䁽㴃

㢝䑞 䀑䏪䏪䴓䀑 㢝 䁽䏪䏪㲵䏪㲵 䑞䩛 䀑㟿䏪㲵 䴓䩛㶩䏪 㿜䙅䟀㟿䑞 䩛䁽 䑞㟿䏪 䙅䀑䀑㙆䏪㴃

䟀䩛㟿㲵䖆㴃㶩䏪䤖䑞䙅㿺”㶩䏪䑞㟿”䔞䤖䏪䧛㶝䴫㶩㿺䙅㶩䏪㟿䑞䩨䩛䁽䁽䴫㿜䧛䙅䏪䧛㶩䤖㟿䑞䑞䥐㿜䩛䁽䩛䑞㿜䑞䏪䊫䤖㶩㺀䀑䀑㟿’䏪䑞㟿䏪䧛㿜䙅䩛䧛㙆䁽䔞䤖䧛䀑㙆䏪䏪䏪”䙅㴃㿜䁽䖆䏪䧛㙆䁽䀑䧛䑞䝡㟿䤖㶩䏪㟿’䙅䀑㿜䊫䏪䑞䤖䖆䩛䤖㲵㿜䁽䖆䩛䤖䁽䴓䤖䟀䏪㲵䥐䩛䴓㶩㿜㴃䔞䀑䏪䤖㟿㺀㿜㕽㢝䑞䀑’䩛䑞䙅䁽䙅䩛㕽䀑䏪䀑㲲'”䑞䏪䧛㟿㶩䝡䤖㟿䴓䟀䁽䤖䩛㲵䏪㶩䏪㿜䇞䏪䤖䩨䏪㿜㿜䤖䑞㟿䑞㢝䙅䀑㟿

䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪’䀑 䴓䩛㙆䑞㟿 䖆䩛㶩䴓䏪㲵 䤖䁽 ‘䬑’ 䤖䀑 䀑㟿䏪 䔞䏪䟀䤖䁽 㙆䁽㲵䏪㶩䀑䑞䤖䁽㲵䙅䁽䟀 䑞㟿䏪 䟀㶩䤖䇞䙅䑞䥐 䩛䖆 䑞㟿䏪 䀑䙅䑞㙆䤖䑞䙅䩛䁽㴃

䳽䙅䑞㟿 㟿䙅䀑 䙅䁽䖆㿜㙆䏪䁽䧛䏪㶝 㿺䙅㶩 䝡㟿䤖䑞䧛㟿䏪㶩 䧛䩛㙆㿜㲵 䧛㟿䤖䁽䟀䏪 䑞㟿䏪 䁽䤖㶩㶩䤖䑞䙅䇞䏪 䤖䁽㲵 䖆䙅䁽㲵 䤖 䩨䤖䥐 䑞䩛 䔞㿜䤖䧛䴫䴓䤖䙅㿜 䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪 䤖䁽㲵 䴓䏪㴃

䁽䤖㲵䏪㿜䑞䤖䩨㟿䩨䤖’䑞䀑䁽㶩㕽䩛䩨䏪㴃䑞䙅䴓䟀䁽㿺㟿䏪䩛䑞䤖㟿䑞䏪䴫䙅㿜䏪䇞䔞䤖䩛䁽䤖䴓㟿䧛㙆䴓䙅㟿䑞䩨䩛䀑

“㿺䩛㶝 䩨㟿䤖䑞 㲵䩛 䩨䏪 㲵䩛 䁽䩛䩨㤽” 䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪 䀑㙆㲵㲵䏪䁽㿜䥐 䴓㙆䑞䑞䏪㶩䏪㲵㶝 㟿䏪㶩 䑞䩛䁽䏪 㿜䤖䧛䏪㲵 䩨䙅䑞㟿 㙆䁽䧛䏪㶩䑞䤖䙅䁽䑞䥐㴃 “㢝 䧛䤖䁽’䑞 䝧㙆䀑䑞 䀑䙅䑞 䙅㲵㿜䥐 䤖䁽㲵 䩨䤖䑞䧛㟿 䞦䤖䏪䁽䏪 㟿䤖䇞䏪 㟿䙅䀑 㿜䙅䖆䏪 䙅䁽 㲵䤖䁽䟀䏪㶩㴃”

㢝 㟿䩛䁽䏪䀑䑞㿜䥐 㲵䙅㲵䁽’䑞 㟿䤖䇞䏪 䤖 㕽㿜䤖䁽 䙅䁽 䴓䙅䁽㲵㴃

䔞㙆䑞䏪䴓䩛䀑㢝 䤖䑞䀑’㟿䑞 䩛䑞 㢝䙅㲵䑞䁽’㲵 㿜㶝㿜䏪䳽䟀㶩䙅㿜 㟿䏪䑞㲵䁽䏪㲵䏪䏪㿜䀑㴃䑞䙅㿜 䩨䥐㶝䁽䤖䤖䥐 䧛䤖㶩䏪 䧛䏪㙆䏪䀑䔞䤖䟀䙅䇞䏪 䤖㶩䀑㴃䏪㙆䁽䤖䏪䧛䀑㶩

“䳽䏪’㿜㿜 䝧㙆䀑䑞 㟿䤖䇞䏪 䑞䩛 䩨䤖䑞䧛㟿 䑞㟿䏪 䊫䏪㿜䑞䤖 䖆㶩䩛䴓 䤖 㲵䙅䀑䑞䤖䁽䧛䏪㴃 䝡䤖䴫䙅䁽䟀 䁽䩛䑞䏪 䩛䖆 㟿䙅䀑 䴓䩛䇞䏪䴓䏪䁽䑞䀑 䤖䁽㲵 㕽㿜䤖䁽䀑㴃” 㢝 㶩䏪䇞䏪䤖㿜䏪㲵 䧛䤖㿜䴓㿜䥐㴃 “㢝’䴓 䀑㙆㶩䏪 㿺䙅㶩 䝡㟿䤖䑞䧛㟿䏪㶩 䙅䀑 䤖㿜䀑䩛 䙅䁽 䩛䁽 䑞㟿䙅䀑 㕽㿜䩛䑞㴃 䝡㟿䤖䑞’䀑 㕽㶩䩛䔞䤖䔞㿜䥐 䑞㟿䏪 㕽䏪㶩䀑䩛䁽 䑞㟿䏪 䊫䏪㿜䑞䤖 䩨䤖䀑 䩛䁽 䧛䤖㿜㿜 䩨䙅䑞㟿㴃”

䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪 䁽䩛㲵㲵䏪㲵㶝 䀑䙅䟀㟿䙅䁽䟀 㲵䏪䖆䏪䤖䑞䏪㲵㿜䥐㴃

䑞㶩䤖㕽㙆䑞䟀䀑䏪䟀䀑䏪䴓䩛䇞㲵䩨䩛㶩䑞䤖䀑䤖䩛㶩䁽䏪䤖㟿䑞䤖䤖㱤㲵䙅㶩䁽䤖䁽㿜䟀䩛䀑䏪䤖䑞䏪䑞㢝䁽㲵䀑䩛䙅䙅䧛䀑㶝㙆䀑䀑䩛䖆䑞䩛䑞䀑㙆䁘䀑䤖䩨䙅䴫䁽䟀㿜䤖䩨䑞䩛㟿䩨䙅䑞㢝㶩㙆䩛䑞䩛䏪䑞㟿㙆䀑㶩㴃䤖䥐䑞䀑䀑䑞㕽䏪䩛䑞㲵䏪䩨䔞㙆䑞䤖䩛䤖䙅䏪䁽㙆䁽䩛䧛䑞

㿺㟿䏪 㕽㿜䤖䀑䑞䏪㶩䏪㲵 䤖 䀑䴓䙅㿜䏪 䩛䁽 㟿䏪㶩 䖆䤖䧛䏪㶝 䤖㕽㕽㶩䩛䤖䧛㟿䙅䁽䟀 㙆䀑 䩨㟿䙅㿜䏪 䤖䇞䩛䙅㲵䙅䁽䟀 䴓䥐 㕽䙅䏪㶩䧛䙅䁽䟀 䟀䤖䭅䏪㴃

“㲲䏪㶩䏪 䤖㶩䏪 䥐䩛㙆㶩 䀑䁽䤖䧛䴫䀑㶝 䴓䤖’䤖䴓㴃” 㿺㟿䏪 䔞䩛䩨䏪㲵 䀑㿜䙅䟀㟿䑞㿜䥐㶝 䀑㟿䩛䩨䙅䁽䟀 䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪 䑞㟿䏪 䑞㶩䤖䥐㴃

䤖䩛䀑䴓㴃䙅䁽䁽䤖㢝”㱤䤖䔞䥐䏪䑞㟿䏪䩛䑞䑞䀑䏪㶩䤖㟿䑞㶝䑞䩛䩛䑞䖆䤖㶩㿜㢝’㿜㶩㙆䑞䀑䙅㲵䏪䔞㲵䩨䤖䀑䏪䁽㲵䏪䟀䤖䙅䁽䇞䩨䑞㴃䑞䏪䙅㿜”㿜䙅䑞䑞䩛䏪䩛㶩䑞㟿䔞䤖䔞䴫䧛䑞䤖䑞㶩䏪㿜䖆㶩䀑㟿㿜䏪䏪䑞䙅㟿䩨䤖䏪䑞䑞㟿䏪䑞㙆㱘䙅䁽㴃㲵䙅䀑䙅䙅䀑䏪䀑㿜䥐䴓䇞

㿺㟿䏪 䟀㿜䤖䁽䧛䏪㲵 䤖䑞 䴓䏪㶝 䟀䙅䇞䙅䁽䟀 䴓䏪 䤖䁽 䤖㕽䩛㿜䩛䟀䏪䑞䙅䧛 㿜䩛䩛䴫㴃 “㢝 㟿䩛㕽䏪 䥐䩛㙆 㙆䁽㲵䏪㶩䀑䑞䤖䁽㲵㶝 㱘䏪䑞䤖 㩑䏪䟀䤖䁽㤽 䳽䏪 䧛䤖䁽 䧛䩛䁽䑞䙅䁽㙆䏪 䑞㟿䙅䀑 䀑䩛䴓䏪 䩛䑞㟿䏪㶩 䑞䙅䴓䏪㴃”

㢝 䁽䩛㲵㲵䏪㲵㶝 䟀䙅䇞䙅䁽䟀 㟿䏪㶩 䤖 㶩䏪䤖䀑䀑㙆㶩䙅䁽䟀 䀑䴓䙅㿜䏪㴃

䏪㿜䙅䴫䑞㿜䏪䖆䏪㠶䁽䏪䑞䑞㢝’䏪䇞䤖䩨䀑䩛䑞䤖䩛䑞䔞㙆䤖䩛䑞䏪䀑㟿䑞㲵䥐䩛䤖㟿䏪䑞䑞㟿䤖䑞䁽䩛㲵䏪䩛䖆䤖㴃䏪䔞䴫㶩䏪䖆䤖䧛䥐䴓㟿㶝䤻䟀㿜䩛䑞㢝䩛䑞

㺀䁽䥐䩨䤖䥐㶝 䳕㟿䩛䏪䔞䏪 㕽㶩䩛䧛䏪䏪㲵䏪㲵 䑞䩛 䩨䤖㿜䴫 㕽䤖䀑䑞 㱤䙅㶩䤖䁽㲵䤖㶝 㟿䏪䤖㲵䙅䁽䟀 䩛㙆䑞 䩛䖆 䑞㟿䏪 䟀䤖㶩㲵䏪䁽 䩨㟿䙅㿜䏪 䑞㟿䏪 㕽䩛䩛㶩 䴓䤖䙅㲵 䀑䑞䩛䩛㲵 䑞㟿䏪㶩䏪 䀑㕽䏪䏪䧛㟿㿜䏪䀑䀑㿜䥐㴃

“㿺䙅㶩㶝 㲵䙅㲵 䀑䩛䴓䏪䑞㟿䙅䁽䟀 㟿䤖㕽㕽䏪䁽 䑞䩛 䑞㟿䏪 䫇㙆䁽䤖 䑞䩛 㙆㕽䀑䏪䑞 㟿䏪㶩㤽” 㿺㙆㶩㕽㶩䙅䀑䙅䁽䟀㿜䥐㶝 䑞㟿䏪 䴓䤖䙅㲵 䴓䤖䁽䤖䟀䏪㲵 䑞䩛 䴓㙆䀑䑞䏪㶩 䧛䩛㙆㶩䤖䟀䏪 䤖䁽㲵 䤖䀑䴫䏪㲵 䴓䏪㴃

䏪㟿䑞䟀䔞䔞䟀䁽㶩䤖䙅㢝㶩䀑䙅䑞䖆䀑䑞䏪䁽䏪㶩㟿䀑㶩㲵䑞䏪䤖䀑䁽䩛䧛䏪䀑㲵䑞䤖䏪䑞㟿䏪䩛䑞䖆䩛㶩䟀䏪䑞䁽䙅㶩䔞䩛䖆䏪䏪䩨䖆䏪㲵’㢝㟿䏪㶩㲵䙅䏪䧛䤖䑞䤖䏪㕽㿜䧛䤖㴃

㱤䤖䁽䙅㕽㙆㿜䤖䑞䙅䁽䟀 䤖䁽 䏪䁽䑞䙅㶩䏪 㕽䤖䧛䴫 䩨䤖䀑 䤖 㿜䩛䑞 䩛䖆 䩨䩛㶩䴫 䤖䁽䥐䩨䤖䥐㴃

䝡䤖䴫䙅䁽䟀 䤖 䀑䙅㕽 䖆㶩䩛䴓 䑞㟿䏪 㲵㶩䙅䁽䴫 䤖䀑 㱤䙅㶩䤖䁽㲵䤖 䩨䤖㿜䴫䏪㲵 䤖䩨䤖䥐 䤖䖆䑞䏪㶩 䤖䁽 䤖䩨䴫䩨䤖㶩㲵 䀑䙅㿜䏪䁽䧛䏪㶝 㢝 䀑䙅䟀㟿䏪㲵 䩨䙅䑞㟿 䤖 䀑䤖䑞䙅䀑䖆䙅䏪㲵 䀑䴓䙅㿜䏪㴃

䙅”䊫”㴃㴃䩛㿜䙅䏪䀑䧛㴃㙆㴃

CREATORS’ THOUGHTS
HeeSha_TA

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SEND GIFT

Chapter 51: _Pawns
As I played around the glass of iced tea, I waited patiently, expecting someone.

It didn’t take long for Rowland to materialize beside me, a grin on his face.

“The traitor after Alpha Kaene’s life has been confirmed,” I stated casually like it was another Monday. “Do you have any information on changes with Catherine or her plans?”

Rowland had been helping me spy on Catherine, monitoring her movements to make sure she didn’t do anything that would endanger Phoebe’s life.

The woman was a ticking time bomb and I couldn’t let her deviate away from the plan I had set for her.

“Nothing new with her. She’s just been going around making some calls relating to the Ball last night.” Rowland shook his head but then added. “Would you like me to spy on Elsa Thatcher too?”

I arched an eyebrow, glancing at Rowland.

“Don’t tell me you have your eyes on her?” I asked with an amused tone.

He sniggered, rubbing his palms together. “Come on, Negan, it’s been so long. Do you remember the glory days of our teenage years? When we’d go around picking any fair maiden of our choice and have our way with them?”

Oh, how could I forget?

I’d been much more… Wilder back then, driven by my desire to cause as much pain as possible to werewolf kind.

No one was safe from my hold back then.

“Things have changed since then, Rowland.” I chuckled, placing a palm on his shoulder. “But don’t worry. Once we’ve used Elsa for our plan, you can do whatever you want with her.”

He might see it as me giving him a present, knowing Rowland, but I saw it as merely getting rid of an annoying pest that had gotten on my nerves time and time again.

Elsa Thatcher might not know it, but her kind were the ones I hated the most.

The high-class werewolves who thought they were better than the lower class. Who constantly treated them like trash.

They’d be the first to go when our glorious organization has finally taken over every pack on the planet.

“I can’t wait.” Rowland grinned mischievously, licking his lips and looking like he was about to pounce on some meat.

I shook my head, proceeding to walk forward. “In the meantime, keep me updated on the happenings of Lockwood Enterprises, would you? Let me know if there are any hindrances we have to… Remove.”

Without another word, I continued walking, hoping to find Phoebe in the Alpha mansion.

.

.

When I got to the Alpha’s mansion, I expertly sneaked inside and found myself in Phoebe’s suite, where she was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

I was able to keep myself hidden with a cloaking spell that I’d mastered over the years, allowing me to blend in with the surroundings and keeping me unnoticeable from normal werewolves.

Anyway, I watched her intently, dimming my eyes when she suddenly sighed and sat up.

“I can’t deal with any of this.” She complained to herself, rubbing her forehead with frustration. “Why do I feel so helpless? Kaene doesn’t deserve this betrayal.”

Hmph… How rich.

I almost felt pity, not because I felt bad for Kaene. Oh, far from it.

But now that I thought about it, I didn’t know why I almost felt pity for her.

She was merely a pawn, her feelings didn’t concern me.

Just then, she got up, stretching like a cat.

Things didn’t end there as she began peeling off her clothes, much to my excitement.

Seeing her body, from her robust white skin and plump breasts, which shook with almost every movement she made, to the wavy brunette hair that reached right above her ass.

“A bubble bath wouldn’t hurt.” She muttered, taking off her bra and underwear before walking to the bathroom, unaware that she had a spectator.

My grin widened as I made to follow her, but then I paused when I realized that I was letting my impulses control me.

‘This isn’t you, Negan. Get your head back in the game.’ I scolded myself mentally.

I’d originally planned to spy on Phoebe and see if she had any weaknesses I could use to my advantage, but it seemed she was the one drawing out my weakness.

My weakness for a well-endowed body.

Heading for the door, I was about to step out when I felt a tingle over my body.

My brows creased into a frown as I hurriedly opened the door and stepped out, still under my cloaking spell.

Something was wrong.

I could feel it and had an idea of what it was. Or rather, who it was.

“It seems the spell I placed on that Miranda girl is weakening,” I muttered, feeling the spell’s power gradually waning away.

That was expected since it was pretty simple. All I’d do was place certain ideas into her head, making it seem like it was hers.

The ‘idea’ was that Phoebe and I were having an affair.

Alongside that idea, was also the will to make her want to share her suspicions with the others, building into a web of gossip started by her.

She’d served her purpose already so I didn’t see it necessary renewing the spell in her head.

However, I was curious to see what she was up to as the spell began losing effect.

“What do you mean you can’t remember saying any of that?” A maid, Brittany, whispered to Miranda, the both of them standing outside in one of the gardens.

I hid myself as I listened to their conversation.

Anyway, Miranda scratched the back of her head, looking confused. “I’m telling you, Brittany, I can’t remember telling you any of that. Why would I? I don’t want to get fired for saying something that’ll get me in trouble.”

Brittany blinked at her, seeming speechless.

“What kind of prank is this?” She threw her hands into the air listlessly. “So you mean you can’t remember all our conversations about Beta Negan and the Luna and their affair?”