Filed To Story: Burn in the Alpha Princess's Wrath (Leslie and Kirby) Book PDF Free
The entire crowd fell into stunned silence.
Every reporter locked their lens on me, hungry, ecstatic, desperate to capture this moment of disgrace.
But I didn’t scream. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even blink.
I simply raised a hand, wiped the mess from my face, and looked up-with the coldest stare imaginable. The kind you give the already-dead.
“Find them,” I said quietly to Liam.
At that moment, an aura of devastating power, far more terrifying than mine, exploded behind us.
“Who? Who did this?!”
A voice boomed like thunder across every soul present-fury incarnate.
I turned.
My father, Lars Rogue Pack-Lycan King of the Rogue Pack royal family-was walking out of the hidden passage with my brother Thorbane. His face burned with unrestrained fury, and his golden eyes held enough fire to reduce all of Halinport to ash.
“Crimson Moon Pack… You’ve gone too far!”
Leslie POV
With my father’s arrival, Halinport’s temperature seemed to plummet to subzero.
All the reporters trembled beneath the crushing pressure of a king’s dominance. No one dared to breathe.
“Father.” I stepped forward and bowed slightly.
“My daughter.” He looked at the filth staining the back of my head. His rage was tangible, suffocating. “They dared humiliate you.”
“I’m fine.” I shook my head.
“This won’t be forgotten.” He turned to Thorbane. “Issue my order. From this moment on, the Lycan royal family severs all business ties with the Crimson Moon Pack. I will make Marcus Crimson Moon Pack pay the highest price for his stupidity.”
“Yes, Father.” Thorbane nodded firmly.
Just then, my father’s private communicator buzzed.
He glanced at the screen and sneered.
It was Marcus Crimson Moon Pack.
“King Lars,” came Marcus’s artificially calm voice, “I heard you’re in Westview. I was wondering if you might be open to… discussing future cooperation between our two Packs?”
Clearly, he hadn’t realized who his mongrel reporters had just insulted.
“Cooperation?” My father chuckled-low, dangerous, bone-chilling. “Of course we can talk, Marcus. One month from now, at the Rogue Pack royal centennial celebration. I’ll send you an
… invitation-for you and your entire family.”
“Then, we can lay all our cards on the table. No more games.”
He ended the call.
I knew, without a doubt, this was Father’s final warning to Crimson Moon Pack.
Kirby POV – Crimson Moon Pack Headquarters
“What did you say?! Lars went to Westview himself?!”
I could barely keep upright as I listened to Father Marcus’s furious roar through the comms. The world spun around me.
It’s over. Everything is over.
The reporters Father sent to humiliate Leslie didn’t force her to submit. Instead, they ended up delivering the ultimate slap across our faces-right in front of the Lycan King himself!
This wasn’t personal anymore. This was an act of war against the entire Rogue Pack royal family-direct, unprovoked, and unforgivable.
“Kirby! Contact Leslie immediately!” Father’s bellow rattled the speakers. “Tell her that if she returns the Ancestor’s Fang right now, I’ll publicly clear her name in the media, on behalf of Crimson Moon Pack! I’ll even… I’ll even allow her to return to Crimson Moon Pack!”
Return… to Crimson Moon Pack?
Hearing his condescending, self-important offer made my stomach churn with a wave of revulsion I couldn’t suppress.
“Father,” my voice came out hoarse and low, “don’t you get it yet? She doesn’t care.”
“To her, everything we have… might just be a joke.”
Just then, my friend Leiss called me in a panic.
“Kirby! Something’s happened! Leslie-she… she-“
I clicked the link he sent,
It was a livestream.
On the screen, Leslie stood on a raised platform, Lars and his two powerful sons behind her.
At her feet was a mass of trembling bodies-those same reporters who had hurled filth and insults at her in Halinport.
She didn’t speak.
She only stared down at them, her eyes cold and divine, as if judging mere mortals from a throne of stars.
Her presence was suffocating, absolute. The space itself seemed to bend to her will.
Then came the moment I would never forget.
She slowly raised her hand. A silver longbow, woven from pure moonlight, appeared in her grasp.
She drew the bowstring.
A glowing arrow formed from condensed lunar energy, aimed directly at the lead reporter- the one who’d hurled that rotten tomato at her.
I held my breath. I thought the arrow would be loosed without mercy.
But she didn’t release it.
Instead, her eyes shifted-thoughtful, almost pitying. Then she let go of the bowstring. The arrow vanished into the air.
“Violence is not the only answer,” her voice echoed across the square via the live broadcast. Cold. Majestic. “But your sins will be punished.”
She raised her hand again. This time, a gentle beam of moonlight streamed from her fingertip and enveloped the reporter.
His body trembled. He opened his mouth to speak, to beg-but no sound came out.
Terror twisted his face into a mask of silent horror.
“From this moment forward,” Leslie declared, calm as ever, “you will no longer be able to speak. Not until you learn respect and humility.”
She turned to the next reporter and did the same.