The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna - Chapter 389

Chapter 389: Chapter 389 Chase’s Hidden Thoughts
He had already made his decision long before this moment; that was why he acted so decisively earlier, striking without hesitation. Now, as he sensed Greg trying to reach his people through the mindlink, Maxwell knew exactly what was happening. Greg was calling for reinforcements.

Would he allow that?

Of course not.

Maxwell’s expression hardened as he closed the distance between them, each step heavy with deadly intent.

Maxwell’s claws elongated, gleaming under the faint light. In a blur of motion, he lunged, his target clear: Greg’s neck. One clean strike to separate the head from the body. Even if the wolf tried to heal him, it would be pointless… assuming it even wanted to.

But Greg’s wolf had long since given up. It welcomed death, its mind twisted with exhaustion and despair. As Maxwell closed in, the creature retreated peacefully into the darkness, almost smiling as it awaited the end, like a prisoner finally being pardoned after endless torment. Being bound to Greg had been its greatest curse, and now, release was its only salvation.

Swoosh!

Skid…

Just before Maxwell’s claws could strike Greg, a powerful kick slammed into him from the side, knocking him off balance. The impact sent him skidding across the ground, and before he could even register what had happened, so sudden was the attack, someone had already grabbed Greg and was fleeing in the opposite direction.

At that moment, chaos erupted on the battlefield. The Golden Hue Pack warriors were still locked in fierce combat with the fake rogues, cutting them down one after another. Both sides froze in shock when they saw Greg and his rescuer retreating.

After all, they had sacrificed so many lives in this elaborate plan to infiltrate the Golden Hue Pack, and now, they were running away?

“Chase! What the hell are you doing?!” Greg shouted through the mindlink, fury and panic lacing his voice. “You’re supposed to be fighting that Alpha and clearing a path to the locust swarm, did you forget our mission?!”

But Chase didn’t respond. He kept running, face set in grim determination, completely ignoring Greg’s desperate outburst. Meanwhile, Greg thrashed and struggled in his hold, furious that he was being dragged away instead of being obeyed.

But would Maxwell let them escape? Of course not. After a brief pause, understanding the situation, he immediately gave chase.

Anticipating this, Chase barked an order to the rogues behind him. “Hold him off!”

It was an order none of the fake rogues could disobey. Despite knowing they were little more than cannon fodder, they immediately stepped in to block Maxwell. In an instant, heads and limbs flew as Maxwell cut through them one by one. The attack slowed him, but not enough to stop him.

Chase’s own speed was also hampered as he was carrying Greg over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but he still managed to put distance between them and Maxwell, keeping their escape alive.

Chase kept running until they were out of sight, then, almost as if answering Greg’s earlier accusation, he spoke.

“Don’t pin everything on me,” he said. “I was already heading to the site where the locust swarm was being held. Sneaking in there was risky: another strong wolf and a whole team were posted nearby, so I had to keep a low profile.”

“I was one breath away from finishing the mission when you called me back. I could’ve left you to die, honestly, I wanted to, but who’s desperate enough to threaten me? Who knows what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve to make the Master think I failed on purpose?”

“Even if I finished the job, I’d still be in trouble. It made more sense to fail together and tell the whole story to the Master. After all, you’re the one who actually failed, not me.”

Chase spoke with a flat, controlled tone, weaving half-truths and omissions into a version of the story that sounded reasonable. His expression was cold and unreadable; no one could tell whether he was lying or telling the truth.

And who had told Greg to threaten him, anyway?

Greg was the type to hold a grudge; it was practically impossible that he wouldn’t try to get back at Chase. And yet, in one thing, Greg was right: when they returned, their Master would punish Chase severely if everyone had died and the mission had failed. It would be obvious that he had sabotaged his own team.

But who would have thought that, just as he was planning to rest, someone would hand him a metaphorical pillow? Greg had only made things worse because of his twisted mind and his desire to toy with others through his games.

He had kicked a metal bucket and encountered an Alpha he thought he could beat. Chase could easily frame the situation as him saving Greg from an Alpha’s jaws, shifting all the blame onto Greg. Even if Chase were punished, Greg would take the brunt of it.

It wasn’t as if this was Chase’s first time being punished for failing a mission. He had been assigned to shadow Greg precisely because he often failed critical missions. Yet, being a strong werewolf with Alpha blood, he was a living weapon, a pawn too valuable to discard easily.

Their Master had struggled over whether to punish Chase, and Chase had exploited that hesitation, continuing to stir trouble. Chase took advantage of the chaos, knowing it wasn’t in his best interest to let things go another way.

And why did he even have a Master?

Wasn’t this so-called Master the one who had conspired against his pack and slaughtered his people? When that happened, his father, the Alpha of the pack at the time, had been cruelly murdered, along with his mother and his newly found fated mate. Who could blame him for nursing such a seething grudge?

Did they really think that shackling him with a curse would make him obey like a loyal mutt? He was still an Alpha, driven by an unyielding thirst for revenge. And seriously, who told them it was a good idea to put their enemies so close to their throat?

And now, he thought he could finally mess with Greg. Even if Greg hadn’t died at Maxwell’s hands earlier, who could say he’d come back unscathed after this? Greg might even wish he had been killed instead of returning from a failed mission that left their forces decimated.

After all, they had brought so many of their people, only to come back empty-handed. Their Master would be furious. After years spent gathering and training pawns, this failure was nothing short of an insult.

Maxwell didn’t know about Chase’s scheming. He let out a long, furious howl that ripped across the sky, chest heaving, crimson soaking his body as the fake rogues lay strewn at his feet. The warriors beside him were battered, some badly injured, but alive.

Seeing Greg and Chase vanish into the distance left a sour taste in his mouth. ‘That man is like an eel, slippery and impossible to kill, like a cockroach,’ Maxwell thought, disgust curling in his gut. He glanced down at his forearm; it still bled, the dark red already mixing with the blood of those he’d cut down.