The She-wolf General

The She-wolf General

Daniel

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My mother forces me to replace my cousin Amy in the alpha's consort selection. In my first life, I was cast aside, but now, I vow to reclaim what's mine. I outwit my family, seizing back my father's legacy and standing up to their cruelty. As I navigate the palace and werewolf politics, I embrace my Smith blood, becoming a warrior. I expose Amy's schemes, face down the Fourth Prince's treachery, and rise as the first female Wolf General. In the end, I confront my mother and Amy's downfall, forging my own path under the moon, no longer a pawn but a force to be reckoned with.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

The howl of the werewolves pierced the night as the fiftieth - year - old alpha announced his grand consort mates selection.

In the dimly lit chamber, my mother's trembling hands replaced my cousin's name on the list with mine.

Her eyes glistened with crocodile tears,.​

"Lenore, your cousin is as innocent as a new - born cub. She lacks your wiles. I've bribed the right wolves. You just need to go through the motions in the consort mate selection. Once you're rejected, I'll come for you, and we'll be a family again with your little brother."​

In my past life, I had fallen for these honeyed words.

After being rejected and forced into servitude as a palace maid, no one came for me.

I counted the days, each night haunted by the distant howls of the werewolf pack outside the palace walls.

When I finally completed my three - year sentence and returned home, it was to witness my cousin's wedding to my betrothed.​

My mother blocked the doorway, her eyes cold as the full moon.

"This is your cousin's big day. Can't you see you're not welcome?"​

I was cast out, left to wander the streets until my life ebbed away. And now, as I opened my eyes once more, I heard those fateful words again: "Lenore, can you take your cousin's place in the palace?"​

"Very well!"

My voice sliced through the silence, sharp as a blade.

The crowd before me froze, their expressions a tableau of shock.

My mother, Mrs. Kasdorf, blinked back tears, her voice trembling with doubt:

"Do you truly mean it, Lenore?"

My younger brother Joseph eyed me with suspicion, his lip curled.

"Since when have you been so charitable?"

I dropped my gaze, letting my lashes veil the fire in my eyes.

"If you doubt me, I shall stay. No loss on my part."

Mother dashed away her tears, her words tripping over themselves.

"Joseph was jesting! If only Amy had half your wit, you wouldn't need to take her place." She forced a smile, her hands fluttering.

"You've always been our dutiful girl. It's late-we'll let you rest."

As their footsteps faded, the room swallowed me in silence.

I flung open the window, and sure enough, shadows of servants prowled the courtyard like sentinels.

A humorless laugh escaped me. What choice did I have?

In my first life, I'd refused.

I had a betrothal, a fiancé due to arrive in three moons.

But the next day, news spread that Amy had thrown herself into the lake.

Joseph had burst into my chamber, dragging me from my bed in my shift, his voice a growl: "Must you drive her to death?"

Mother had wept, her words a dagger:

"Remember-Amy's father died saving you. You swore to protect her."

From age six, I'd been taught Amy was a fragile orphan, owed my kindness.

Her Candy, her embroidered nightgown, her jewels.

Even in the palace, where I'd spent three years as a pawn, I'd never breathed a word against her.

My nails dug into my palms.

This time, I'll not be a fool.

That night, the moon rose full, its glow pooling like silver blood on my windowsill.

The next day, Mother sent fabrics and jewels.

The maid chirped: "Even Cousin Amy hasn't seen such fine silks!" I smiled thinly. No, she's received something far deadlier.

On the day of the draft, I did not hide.

I dressed in midnight velvet, my hair coiled with pins.

Among the trembling girls at the palace gates, some wept, some stared blankly.

All knew the alpha was a lecherous old fool-only the Flower Envoy's threats had dragged us here.

As the scarlet gates creaked open, a man stepped forth.

Clad in midnight silk, his posture sinuous, was Doug Leffler, the alpha's right-hand man.

When his eyes met mine, I felt a jolt.

As we filed past, I couldn't resist a backward glance.

This man, rumored to be a snake in the grass, had been my only warmth in those three hellish years.

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