Filed To Story: Burn in the Alpha Princess's Wrath (Leslie and Kirby) Book PDF Free
“These are daily records from the past three years-arranged by Miss Leslie, through me. You once told me that these little matters didn’t need to be reported.”
Frowning, I opened the files.
The contents were trivial-mundane, even. But they hit like a blade to the gut.
March 7th: Alpha departs for Northern Mountain Range for the winter hunt. Miss Leslie delivered a custom-blended cold-resistance salve, instructing that it be packed with your gear. She noted your old leg injury may flare up in extreme cold.
May 20th: Alpha to attend negotiations with Rock Pack. Miss Leslie provided high-energy snacks laced with calming herbs. She said long negotiations often trigger your migraines, and this would help.
September 3rd: Your birthday. Miss Leslie spent the day preparing food at the estate, but you didn’t come back. She had me pack the dishes and deliver them to the guard station the next day. She said they shouldn’t go to waste.
One by one. Over and over.
All those “trivial matters” I told Malach to keep off my radar-every single one pierced through me now like a knife.
I had always thought her feelings for me were just cold, contractual obligations.
I never realized that beneath that cold surface… was something humble, silent, and heartbreakingly sincere.
And I-through arrogance and neglect-had personally tossed that sincerity into the abyss.
“Alpha…” Malach’s voice came again, slightly trembling now. “Just now… Mr. Alan from Apex Industries sent a message. He’s requesting a three-party meeting with you and Governor Leslie at their headquarters. It’s about the next phase of the Moon Goddess Relic project.”
I looked up, bloodshot eyes wide.
I knew-Alan was giving me an opportunity.
Maybe my last one.
Leslie’s POV – Apex Industries Headquarters
Inside Alan’s meeting room, the air was cold as the Northern Wastes.
Kirby sat across from me, looking more worn out and broken than I had ever seen him.
“Leslie,” he said quietly, his voice raw, “I’m sorry.”
I lifted my teacup, gently blew at the tea leaves floating on the surface. I didn’t say a word.
His apology meant even less to me than the wind howling outside the window.
“I know,” he went on, struggling to find his words, “there’s nothing I can say that will undo the pain I caused you over the past three years.” He took a deep breath, like it was costing him everything to keep speaking. “But the Ancestor’s Fang… means everything to our Pack. Please- name your price.”
I set the cup down and finally looked him in the eye,
“Alright.” I smiled, but it was a smile with no warmth.
“My price is simple.”
“Crimson Moon Pack will withdraw from the Moon Goddess Relic project.”
“What?!” Kirby’s head snapped up, staring at me in disbelief.
“I said,” I repeated slowly, each word an icepick to his chest, “your Crimson Moon Pack will give up all rights, all resources, and all future profits related to this project. Trade your Pack’s future… to reclaim its past.”
“Do you think that’s a fair deal?”
He stared at me, pain carved deep into his features.
The Ancestor’s Fang symbolized Crimson Moon Pack’s history, its former glory.
But the Moon Goddess Relic project-that was the future. Innovation, alliances, legacy.
I wanted him to choose.
I wanted him to feel the burn of being forced to decide what mattered more-what was lost… or what might still be saved.
“I…” He finally spoke, each word like a stone dragged through gravel. “I can’t.”
“Good.” I stood, slipped on my coat, and gave him a smile. This time, it reached my eyes.
“Then we have nothing more to talk about.”
Leslie’s POV
The negotiation with Kirby ended in complete failure.
With his refusal, he once again proved to me that guilt and regret-when placed against the interests of his Pack-were still worthless.
Back at the Governor’s Estate, I had just finished dealing with a backlog of documents when an encrypted call bearing the royal seal lit up in my office.
The screen opened to reveal Carl’s flawless, infuriatingly perfect face.
“Well, well, my darling baby sister,” he greeted with a smirk. “You’ve gotten even prettier in just a few days…”
Carl was a true legend in the werewolf world.
He had bloodline strength that rivaled any royal, yet he had zero interest in power or titles.
He’d left the Pack when he was young, hiding his identity as he wandered the world, challenging fighters across the continent. People called him the Blade in Exile.
Then, for whatever reason, he decided to dive headfirst into the entertainment industry, getting tangled in scandals with countless actresses.
That ridiculously handsome face of his, combined with his carefree, playboy attitude, had made him the dream mate of female werewolves everywhere.
“I am the most beautiful woman in the galaxy,” I flipped my hair and shot back shamelessly.
Carl clicked his tongue. He’d been making polite conversation, and I’d taken the bait without hesitation.
He chuckled. “I’ll be filming in your city tomorrow. Be at the airport to pick me up. And while you’re at it, arrange a lavish banquet. We need to properly celebrate your divorce-and of course, my arrival.”
“So basically, it’s about you,” I said bluntly, calling him out without missing a beat.
He didn’t even wait for a response before casually hanging up.
I shook my head. That brother of mine would always be the same-impulsive and completely self-indulgent.
The next day, I slept in until well past sunrise before Carl’s barrage of calls finally forced me awake.
“Leslie! I’m almost at Halinport! Are you ready to welcome your favorite third brother?!”
Halinport?! Right-airport pickup!
Ijolted out of bed, scrambled to get ready, threw on a modest black maxi dress, and sped toward Halinport Central Skyport in my more low-profile Porsche Cayenne.
Fortunately, Carl’s private flight seemed to be delayed.
Inside Halinport, people bustled back and forth. A crowd of young female werewolves had gathered near the VIP terminal, waving glowing signs that read “Carl, I’ll love you forever!”-his fanclub, no doubt.
As I studied the group of crazed fans, I suddenly heard someone shout nearby: “Kirby!”
My head instinctively turned toward the voice.