The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna

Chapter 470: Chapter 470 Just A Childhood Friend

Levi, hearing Zion’s desperate calls, rushed over without hesitation. He was still in his wolf form, carefully carrying the unconscious Archmage Elric toward the warriors who had come to help. Around them, the doctors and healers were hastily gathering their medical supplies from the tents, while others rushed to the gate to carry the injured inside the temporary shelter.

The moment Levi caught Zion and Maxwell’s anxious voices, he immediately shifted back into his human form. His entire body was slick with sweat, and he panted heavily, the strain of exertion and worry etched across his face.

The moment Levi saw Addison, his brows furrowed, but he said nothing. His gaze swept over the guards who had dealt with the biochemical agent before, and when they returned his look with respectful nods, he finally looked away.

”Let’s get Addison checked first. I’ll explain what happened, but this isn’t the place,” Levi said to Zion via mindlink, careful that no one else could hear. Only Zion received the message. Maxwell, unaware of the private communication, was about to demand answers, but Zion subtly grabbed his arm and shook his head, meeting his gaze with a serious look, hoping Maxwell would read the unspoken command to hold back for now.

Maxwell’s frown deepened, irritation written all over his face. He knew Levi and Zion were communicating through their mindlink, and Zion’s subtle signal to hold back only fueled his frustration, but there was nothing he could do. Taking a shaky, deep breath, he forced himself to stay calm.

Just then, the healer arrived.

”Alpha Maxwell, Alpha Zion, Beta Levi, please let me through. I need to check the princess first,” the female healer said, not waiting for them to step aside. She knelt beside Addison, who rested in Maxwell’s arms. First, she checked Addison’s eyes, confirming she was unconscious.

Then she placed a hand over Addison’s chest. A soft green light spread from her palm, seeping into Addison’s body as a precaution, stabilizing her and addressing any potential internal injuries, though the doctors would still need to examine her thoroughly.

”Alpha Zion, Alpha Maxwell, Beta Levi, let’s bring the princess back to your tent first. She needs a thorough examination for any internal injuries, and that way I can focus on healing exactly what needs attention,” the female healer said, her expression serious.

The moment she placed her palm over Addison’s chest, she had felt it, a tugging, almost sucking sensation, as if her healing power was being pulled toward Addison. If this continued, she might be drained before accomplishing anything. It was safer to let the doctors handle a full assessment first, and then she could concentrate on targeted healing.

She couldn’t explain this in front of everyone, so she addressed only Addison’s three fated mates. ”Bring her to the tent,” she said firmly. She could sense, deep within, that something was wrong with their princess, and she needed privacy to deal with it.

Maxwell didn’t reply, but he immediately stood, cradling Addison in his arms. Zion and Levi followed closely, their expressions grim. The healer released her hold on Addison, but it took effort; her hand seemed almost stuck to Addison’s chest, as if her healing power was being sucked in by a magnet. Maxwell noticed the worry etched on the healer’s face but said nothing, keeping his focus on moving.

Meanwhile, the warriors from the various packs were busy assisting the mages to go inside the temporary shelter. Letting the doctors and healers examine them out in the open, at the gate, wasn’t ideal. Many of the returning warriors and guards were utterly exhausted; so, while still in their wolf forms, their tongues lolled out, and their bodies sagged as if they might collapse from fatigue.

Lance, however, immediately rushed forward the moment he saw Addison passed out. He tried to reach her, but Zion and Levi were in the way, and he couldn’t push past them. He had no choice but to follow them toward the tent.

When Maxwell entered the tent carrying Addison, with the healer and then Levi close behind, Zion came to a stop. He stepped in front of the entrance, blocking Lance. His possessiveness flared; he wouldn’t allow any other male werewolf near his mate. He could understand Levi and Maxwell being there; they were both Addison’s mates. But Lance had no right, no reason, to be inside.

”Why are you stopping me?! I have the right to know what’s wrong with Addison!” Lance growled, refusing to back down. His anxiety over her condition outweighed any fear of confronting Zion.

”Addison needs rest,” Zion said evenly, his expression unreadable. ”There are already too many people in the tent. Wait until she wakes up. Then, if she allows it, you can check on her.” He didn’t taunt Lance, didn’t argue; he had far more important matters on his mind.

”Why can you go in and I can’t? I’m her childhood friend! I have the right to be there with her!” Lance took a step forward, trying to maneuver around Zion into the tent. But Zion blocked him without a flinch, standing firm like an unmovable wall.

”Yes, you’re her childhood friend,” Zion said, his voice low and steady, ”but we are her fated mates. Right now, she needs rest, and you need to respect that.” He locked eyes with Lance, who glared back, full of hatred and stubborn determination.

Without another word, Zion turned and entered the tent. His message had been made clear: Lance had no claim to Addison, and he would have to wait patiently until she woke and allowed him near.

Inside, only her mates could stay close. All three were taut with tension, on edge from fear and worry. If Lance entered now, their territorial instincts might override reason, and a fight could erupt.

Male werewolves reacted fiercely territorial when their mates were in danger, sick, or in life-threatening situations, and right now, Zion, Maxwell, and Levi were all gripped by that same protective, anxious intensity.

To prevent further complications, Zion blocked Lance from entering their temporary den. A confrontation now could have erupted, and Addison’s rest was far too important for that. Without needing a word from Levi or Maxwell, Zion stepped in, his stance firm and unyielding.

Hearing Zion’s words hit Lance like a slap. His anger flared hotter than ever. Fate had snatched the role of being her fated mate from him, giving Addison three others instead, and this moment, being barred from standing by her side when she was most vulnerable, only deepened the ache he had tried to suppress.

His possessiveness and obsession surged, boiling over as he glared at Zion’s back. The tent’s flap fell closed, cutting him off, but Lance remained rooted in place, his gaze murderous, burning with a hunger and frustration that refused to fade.

He only stepped aside when the doctor came running. In his haste, the doctor accidentally bumped into Lance’s shoulder and quickly stammered out an apology. But before the words even left his mouth, he looked up and froze.

Lance’s eyes swirled with pure, seething hatred, sharp enough to cut through the air. The doctor’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, unable to form a sound, paralyzed by the sheer intensity of Lance’s glare. He didn’t breathe properly until Lance finally turned and walked away.