Layla's Destined Lover

Layla happily looked at the man sitting across from her, the one soon to become her life partner and step into the remaining journey of life with her.

"Layla, you are beautiful."

Leon, her destined partner, looked at her with a mesmerizing gaze, uttering the compliment from the depth of his heart. That whispered sentence made the successor queen of wolves shyly bow her head, too embarrassed to let him see her flushed face.

Today is a special day for the Western wolf tribe, the wedding day of wolf queen Layla. Below the tree platform where Layla and Leon stand are several hundred wolf tribe members from the West. They cheer and celebrate the marriage ceremony of the Western tribe leader.

The excited sounds urge the powerful couple to drink deer blood from a cup, like humanity's wine toasting ritual. Here, this marrying pair doesn't need anyone to officiate their wedding, for they are already the king and queen of this Western land. All they need is the witness of their tribe members.

Layla wears a white fox fur cloak, her ripe red lips smiling happily as she lifts the golden cup filled with deer blood. She looks towards Leon, her eyes eagerly waiting for him to pick up the other cup, showing her eagerness to complete the ritual and enter her bridal chamber soon.

She is a wolf born from the pinnacle of glory, her fighting instinct and the drive to perpetuate her lineage urging her to fulfill her duty quickly.

She needs to produce an heir before the age of twenty-five.

That is a deep secret related to Layla's bloodline, known only to her and her parents. Even Leon has never heard of it.

Layla thinks it's fine that he doesn't know. After all, she is about to accomplish it. No more bad things will happen after that.

The moment Leon picks up the other golden cup, she smiles contentedly at him.

Both drain the cups of blood in their hands.

Layla feels the warm blood coursing through her veins. She tenderly looks at her husband and then turns to face her tribe members below. She wants to thank everyone for helping her organize this ceremony. But, she can't speak.

Yes, the moment Layla opens her mouth to speak, her body suddenly heats up, her eyes turn a deep black, devoid of any white. Her whole body and thoughts go out of control.

She knows this condition well.

This is the reaction she has during her berserk episodes.

But these outbursts only happen once a year unless she mistakenly drinks human blood.

Layla feels attacked, her body aching as if she's continuously being wounded. And the last thing she sees before closing her eyes is the victorious smile of the husband who just drank from the same cup of blood with her.

She was tricked by him.

...

"Wake up!"

Following the piercing scream is a chilling sensation that jolts Layla awake. Her eyes are heavy, blurring her vision. However, the voices that follow help Layla recognize who is facing her, even though her eyes can no longer clearly see everything around her.

"Look at this, look at this! Who would have thought that the daughter of that damn Baron would kneel before me like this! Ha ha ha!"

Baron is Layla's surname, but the wolves of the Western tribe are close to her, often addressing her by her first name. Baron is a title usually reserved for her father, the former tribal chief of the West.

This booming voice she knows well, it must be Phelan Roger. A childhood friend of her father, who had once fought side by side with her father to expand the Western territories.

"Old Phelan, your drug is sure not to cause any problems, right?"

That raspy and disgusting voice she knows all too well. This is Thomas Valerie, the captain of the first squad responsible for the tribe's security. He's also a childhood friend who fought passionately alongside her father.

All these introductions are narrated by Layla's father, her memories vivid with his nostalgic and proud face about his dear friends.

However, it seems all to be her father's imagination. Because the mocking and gleeful tone directed at this friend's daughter isn't the tone that close friends should have.

Perhaps her father, the former tribal chief Baron, was too naïve in his relationships and never saw their true colors. Or maybe they hid it so well that even the sharp eyes of a skilled and strategic warrior like Baron couldn't see through them.

Layla tries to lift her heavy eyes to get a clear look at the traitors casually discussing in front of her. But the blood trickling down into her eyes makes her already unclear vision blur even more. Whether by luck or misfortune, one of them is always paying attention to her condition, for soon after, a clear voice rings out.

"Father, Uncle Thomas, Brother Leon. Don't just chat like that. Our chieftain is awake."

"My love, don't call her the chieftain anymore. I am the chieftain now."

No need to ask much. Layla could already guess the whole story. The woman drawing everyone's attention to her was none other than Anna Adela, the beloved daughter of old Phelan. And the Leon she referred to was none other than the man who had just married her.

For some reason, they knew about her berserk episodes and deliberately switched the deer blood in her golden cup with human blood, aiming to trigger her madness in front of everyone. The wolf tribe has a rule; as a chieftain, one must absolutely control one's instincts.

Because the duty of a chieftain is to protect and be the pillar for their people. Once a chieftain is controlled by their instincts, it can bring unpredictable consequences to the tribe members. Not to mention a chieftain who suffers from berserk disease, easily controlled by the bloodlust within, causing wanton slaughter.

All this, just to drive her from her position as chieftain, and in the end, those scoundrels would seize everything the Baron lineage had built with great hardship. The Western wolf tribe, founded and established by the blood and sweat of Layla's ancestors, was now being destroyed by someone as sick as her.

Layla, you are a sinner.

Thinking this, she smirked bitterly.

All her life she was born a winner, yet her first defeat destroyed the entire Baron legacy.

Layla felt every joint in her arms and legs transmitting powerlessness and pain. Clearly, they had shattered her limbs. They wanted to kill her in the most brutal way. A tide of hatred was rising within her.

Layla hated the ungrateful, betraying crowd.

She hated the man who deceived her feelings.

She even hated herself for being foolishly naive to be deceived so simply.

This outrage of hers was like a powerful stream of air, helping her gather the last bit of strength to clearly see the scum before her, to keep her final dignity and not bow to any filthy power. She gritted out each word to the wolves in front of her.

"I... will definitely... kill you all!"

Her voice was hoarse from not eating or drinking for days, but this sound inadvertently made the wolves facing her shiver.

The majesty of a battle-ready chieftain is not simple.

Unlike the men who had been through fierce hunts, Anna was just a pampered, delicate she-wolf, who stepped back a few paces behind her beloved. Her eyes flashed with jealousy and malice, she said, "My love, break the former chieftain's fangs. Let's see how long she keeps up her act!"

Leon, awakened by his lover's words, thought Anna was right. Wolves use their claws and fangs as weapons; if he broke her fangs and pulled out her claws, even if she wanted revenge, she wouldn't have the strength.

Leon turned to look at his elders, wanting to know their opinion.

Old Phelan smirked, saying slowly, "Just don't kill her. We still need this kid to provide the location to get the Baron tribe's treasure."

Hearing about the Baron tribe's treasure, Layla bit her cracked, bloody lips. So, it wasn't just greed for the chieftain's seat; they were after her family's treasure.

The first chieftain of the Baron tribe had luck in seizing a treasure that could increase one's strength a hundred thousand times and was also used to grant a wish by the wolf king, a legendary figure no one had the chance to meet.

Not to mention the wish, just the sight of it could enhance strength, making it a treasure of the wolf tribe. After all, wolves love to fight and hunt, expanding their territories. For wolves, strength is everything.

It was thanks to this treasure that her Baron tribe had been able to maintain the chieftain's position in the West for so long, with no one daring to harbor thoughts of betrayal.

That's called absolute suppressive power.

But everything had changed now. Layla glared at the people slowly approaching, as they began to pry her mouth open. That bastard Leon smirked at her:

"Former chieftain, don't worry. It'll be over quickly."

Then came the extreme pain that surged to Layla's brain.

"Aaahhh!!!"