My Alpha Wants Two Lunas I'm Done novel Chapter 134

Chapter 134 Fake!

Third-person POV:

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Estelle’s gaze pressed down like a weight.

It carried over twenty years of accumulated authority-she was the late king’s most beloved sister, the shadow that once stood second only to the king himself. In the Royal Court, offending her meant offending the late king’s legacy.

Anyone else would’ve already dropped to their knees and begged for mercy.

Laila just smiled.

A faint smile-barely there, like the first crack splitting across a frozen lake.

“I didn’t bring it. But if anyone would like to see it, you’re welcome to visit Silvermoon Pack— I’ll be happy to take out that box and show you every detail.

“As for whether it came from your hand… you know the answer in your heart.

“It’s not something that simply disappears because you deny it now.

“Tracing the original carving work and the cursed inscriptions shouldn’t be too difficult. After all…” She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. “A cursed object that defies the Moon Goddess’s grace—I imagine there’s only one like it in the entire kingdom.”

“Laila!”

Estelle’s palm slammed down on the armrest.

Alpha pressure erupted from her body, crashing toward Laila!

“I’d say it’s the Conlay bloodline that’s soaked in cursed blood-that’s why you brought this on your-”

She stopped dead.

Laila took one step forward.

Just one step. Her shoulders didn’t shift, her chin didn’t rise, her skirt didn’t even stir the air.

But the air in the hall tore-like something unseen had bared its fang.

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11:37 Thu, Feb 26 f

Chapter 134 Fake!

“Brought upon ourselves… what?”

Her voice wasn’t loud.

You could even call it calm.

But underneath it was something sharper than a blade.

“The Conlay bloodline … soaked in cursed blood?”

She looked at Estelle.

Her gaze was ice.

“The souls that have fallen beneath my family’s claws are indeed beyond counting.

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“But those souls belonged to enemy soldiers-soldiers who seized our land, stole our treasures, and violated our she-wolves!”

Her voice didn’t rise, yet each sentence landed like wolf paws closing in across the snow.

“The souls of invaders don’t deserve to be guided home by moonlight.

“And

you, Estelle-you sit here in the Royal Court, living your peaceful life, throwing lavish banquets year after year. But that peace was bought with the fangs and blood of my father, my brothers, and every warrior of this kingdom.

“When you say things like that-

“How are Rydar’s warriors supposed to believe the Royal Court is worth dying for?”

The entire hall went silent-silent as a snowfield burying the dead.

Estelle’s Alpha pressure still rippled through the air-but it was no longer oppressive.

It was the fading echo of a bluff.

Like hollow echoes lingering in a valley long after the wolf pack had retreated!

“Let me see what you brought for my mother!”

In the silence, Jenna snatched up Laila’s gift and unrolled it, trying to change the subject.

Every pair of eyes followed-

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11:37 Thu, Feb 26

Chapter 134 Fake!

:

On the scroll was a bouquet of roses in a white ceramic jar.

Not a grand garden scene-just a quiet corner by an ordinary windowsill.

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The jar had fine cracks from old chips, and a small piece of glaze was missing from the rim.

There were about a dozen roses. Some were in full bloom, their outer petals curling slightly outward, their color fading as if the first light of dawn had settled upon them. Others were still tight buds, the sepals tinged with green. Two or three leaves drooped down, their veins clearly drawn-one even had a nibbled edge where some insect had chewed through.

“By the Moon-is this a Shane original? I’d know that style anywhere.”

“Yes! Look at the signature at the bottom-that’s Shane himself!”

“Oh, dear Moon Goddess, Laila is generous! A rose painting by Shane Green is practically priceless!”

Elara caught every word from the edge of the crowd.

She didn’t miss a single one.

She pressed a fist to her chest, the ache spreading through her ribs.

A gift Laila tossed out casually was worth enough to feed Ironclaw Pack for three years.

Three years.

Regret twisted her guts into knots.

For Maris-that useless thing-for the “future glory” that never materialized, she had shoved a goldmine right out the door.

She squeezed through the crowd, craning her neck as far as it would go to get a look at the painting-

And froze.

The next second, a shrill voice cut through the hall.

“No! It’s fake!

“It’s a forgery!”