The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna - Chapter 383

Chapter 383: Chapter 383 The Chase Ends
Their blood was boiling. So many of their people were dead, and those men had the gall to mock the fallen. They couldn’t stand it. Veins throbbed at their temples as each man fought to leash the wolves inside him.

The captain wanted to tell his men to ignore the taunts, but even he felt his stomach twist in fury at those vile words that desecrated the memory of their fallen comrades. His fists clenched, and he shut his eyes tight, trying to contain the rage burning within him.

When he opened them again, his irises glowed a deep, furious red, the unmistakable mark of hatred threatening to consume him.

But he couldn’t give in. Not now. He couldn’t just abandon Levi to chase vengeance against those rogues.

Greg, following closely behind, heard the taunts too, yet instead of rebuking his men, he merely chuckled, as if he shared their perverse amusement. It was clear then that whatever shred of morality Greg once had was long gone.

Perhaps it was because he himself had suffered humiliation before and now found twisted satisfaction in watching others endure the same. Or maybe he’d simply been broken by his past, numbed to the suffering of others.

A smirk curved across Greg’s lips. Though Levi’s people couldn’t see it, they heard his mocking snort echo from just behind them. It meant Greg and his men were close, so close that they could have struck already.

But they didn’t. Instead, they chose to drag it out, tormenting their prey with words and waiting to see them crumble under fear and rage before delivering the final blow.

Such twisted, sinister minds truly did flock together.

The captain clenched his jaw so tightly that his molars ground against each other, the sound harsh in his ears until he could almost taste blood on his tongue. His whole body trembled with fury he could barely contain.

His wolf thrashed violently within him, echoing his rage and grief, and that only made it worse. The beast inside him wanted to tear those bastards apart for their words, for the way they mocked the fallen.

After all, those who had died weren’t just comrades; they were his brothers, wolves who had run beside him through countless days in the forest during patrols. They’d been raised together, fought together, survived together.

They were family, bound not just by blood, but by instinct as werewolves. And now, hearing their memory dragged through the dirt, both man and beast burned with the same uncontrollable hatred.

“Do you just fucking stand there and let these bastards talk shit about our fallen brothers?!”The captain’s wolf roared inside him, its voice trembling with both fury and sorrow, a guttural sound born from grief. It too mourned the loss of its kin, the wolves who once ran beside it through the good and bad days.

“We can’t really take them head-on right now. We have to get Beta Levi to safety — for the Princess.” He wanted to rip them apart. The thought burned in him. ‘God, I want to smash their heads in. My hatred won’t stop until I do.’

He spoke the last words only to his wolf, the fury echoing in his mind as a low, animal growl. His chest heaved; pain and rage mixed under his ribs. Then he forced himself to breathe, closed his eyes for a heartbeat, and refocused on running.

Their enemies were baiting them. Now more than ever, they needed discipline, cool heads, and speed if they wanted to survive.

“Pathetic loser,” the wolf snarled, but then it backed down. It understood the pack’s rules better than its human half did. Hierarchy came first; vengeance could wait. So the beast curled its fury into the far corner of the captain’s mind and forced itself to be still.

No matter how much Greg’s men taunted Levi’s group, the captain and the other two pretended not to hear anything, their jaws clenched as they kept running. Seeing their mockery had no effect, Greg and his people frowned in irritation.

Losing interest in the game, they decided to end it once and for all. The thrill of blood and carnage still stirred their excitement, and the thought of slaughtering the remaining survivors was far more appealing than continuing the chase.

As for Levi, Greg had already given a special order that no one was to touch him. Greg wanted to kill Levi with his own hands. Letting him bleed and weaken was all part of his twisted revenge.

Back when Greg fled from the Midnight River Pack with a severed arm, he too had bled heavily, stumbling off a cliff and plunging into a river before being found by his current master. He had survived only through sheer tenacity and a burning will to live, fueled by hatred.

Now, he wanted Levi to experience the same agony, to suffer the same torment he once endured, as repayment and as the only way to soothe the fire of his vengeance.

After all, in Greg’s eyes, Levi was just as guilty as Zion and Addison, so he had no reason to spare anyone. But if he allowed Levi to keep bleeding, the man might die from blood loss, and where was the fun in that?

Letting Levi die so easily would only make things too merciful. Greg wanted him to suffer a little longer before death. The thought alone sent a delicious churn through his stomach, excitement bubbling in his chest like a fever.

With that twisted anticipation driving him, Greg and his remaining five fake rogues surged forward, bypassing the three who were running ahead and cutting off their escape route. Two of Greg’s men darted in front of the captain, skidding to a halt and forcing the captain and his two wounded companions to stop.

The three immediately took a step back, moving in sync as they formed a tight circle, standing back to back to guard every angle, Levi’s unconscious body still slumped over the captain’s back.

He had passed out again after whispering his last order to them: to head east.

They hadn’t even noticed when Levi lost consciousness again, as they were too focused on running and watching their enemies’ every move. But now, it was clear that the cat-and-mouse game had come to an end, and their real predicament had just begun.

The three gritted their teeth, eyes wary and bodies tense, as they faced Greg and his men, whose faces twisted into malicious grins.

“Captain…” The warrior who had been ready to sacrifice his life earlier spoke again, his tone heavy with resolve. His gaze made his intentions clear; he wanted to give the others a chance to escape, even if it meant using his own life to make it happen.

But just as he moved to lunge at the nearest rogue, the captain’s hand shot out, gripping his arm firmly and stopping him in his tracks.

“Hold on…” the captain rasped, his voice hoarse as he glared at Greg. He swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to stay composed. At this point, they were all gambling with their lives, and by the looks of it, they had already reached the eastern edge of their patrol zone.