The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna-Chapter 98 Sparring

But something about her words made Addison pause.

Was it just her imagination, or was there a double meaning hidden beneath that calm, courteous voice? Was Mila subtly implying that Addison had fallen behind — that she was no longer on Mila’s level after being away from training for so long?

Addison frowned slightly, then shook her head, brushing the thought aside. Maybe it was just her own insecurities talking — ghosts of doubt creeping in.

After all, Mila stood there poised and graceful, the very image of control and refinement. In contrast, Addison felt like a wild child — rough around the edges, chaotic, and untamed.

Addison didn’t say a word — she simply smiled back at Mila. After finishing her stretches, she stepped closer into the arena, her expression calm but focused.

Mila, standing still with an air of composed grace, returned the smile, brighter now, but with an undertone that made Addison raise an eyebrow. It was subtle, but the way Mila held herself, so serene and unbothered, felt almost like she wasn’t taking Addison seriously.

But Mila had said she could attack first, and Addison had no intention of holding back. In a real battle, enemies wouldn’t wait for you to catch up, and there was no room for courtesy.

Without hesitation, Addison launched her first strike — a straight punch aimed directly at Mila’s face. Mila smoothly dodged to the side, but Addison was already anticipating that move. Her left hand shot up beneath Mila’s chin, aiming for a swift uppercut.

Mila didn’t have time to evade. She stepped back just as the blow grazed her chin — enough to make her head snap slightly and a wave of dizziness wash over her. She staggered.

Sensing her advantage, Addison pressed forward relentlessly. She didn’t give Mila a moment to recover. Twisting her body, Addison launched a spinning kick mid-air, then another, and another.

Mila barely had time to raise her arms in defense, blocking as best as she could. Addison’s strikes came fast and hard, each one packed with raw strength and aimed with precision. Mila gritted her teeth behind her guard. Addison wasn’t playing around — she was targeting every vulnerable spot with brutal efficiency.

The more Addison moved, the more natural it felt. Her body responded on instinct, muscle memory guiding her with every strike. With each motion, fragments of forgotten sensations returned — echoes of past training and long hours spent sharpening her skills.

She remembered sparring even during her recovery in the Sacred Lands. Silas, ever blunt and practical, had insisted she keep her body in shape. "You need to let your body remember its true form," Silas would say. And so, they sparred — regularly and rigorously.

When Addison first arrived in the Sacred Lands, she was far from her peak. After three years in the Midnight River Pack without proper training, her muscles were stiff, her joints uncooperative. Silas had started her from the basics again, helping her rebuild what was lost.

But the more she trained, the more it all came back. Movements that once felt foreign began to flow. Her reflexes sharpened. Her strength returned.

Over the past year, training had become her routine — her anchor. She sparred often, sometimes with the Royal Guards, but mostly with Silas, who, despite being busy, would use those sessions as a way to vent her own stress. The eccentric Saintess had her own quirks, but she never went easy on Addison, and Addison grew stronger because of it.

Now, because Mila had underestimated Addison, unaware that she’d been training and was nearly back to her former self, she was now paying the price. Addison didn’t hold back. Not out of pride, nor because she suspected Mila had taunted her earlier, but because she understood something crucial: werewolves heal fast. The pain wouldn’t last long for Mila, but the lesson might.

Letting your guard down, especially in battle, was a dangerous mistake — one that could cost lives. Addison intended to remind her of that.

On the sidelines, the twins sat happily on their grandparents’ laps, cheering for their mother with bright, giggling voices.

"Hehehe, brother, Auntie didn’t know Mommy was such a great fighter, huh?" Kyle whispered, trying — and failing — to stifle his laughter with a hand over his mouth. "Look, she thought Mommy was easy to beat... but she doesn’t know Mommy made some of Auntie Silas’s people cry after sparring!"

The two children dissolved into another round of giggles, proud and gleeful as they watched their mother dominate the match.

"Of course Mommy is amazing!" Aiden chimed in, eyes sparkling with admiration. "When we grow up, we’ll be just as strong as her — maybe even stronger! After all, we’re boys, so we’ll grow bigger than Mommy. And by then, it’ll be our turn to protect her, just like Auntie Silas said!"

The Alpha King and his mate exchanged a glance, identical smiles forming on their faces. Hearing their grandsons speak with such pride and innocence warmed their hearts.

They had once worried that Addison would need to be retrained from the ground up — that the years away had dulled her edge. If she was to become the heir apparent to the throne, she needed to regain the strength and competence she was once known for. Only then would the people recognize her as worthy of the title.

And with the recent string of unsettling incidents from every direction, the kingdom’s stability was already fragile. If word spread that their future Alpha King was weak or unprepared, it would only deepen the public’s uncertainty.

But watching Addison now — fierce, skilled, and unrelenting — they felt a growing sense of reassurance. Perhaps things were not as bleak as they once feared.

"Ugh! A-Addison..." Mila tried to speak, but Addison was already mid-air, preparing to bring down a hammer kick aimed directly at her cousin’s head. Sensing the danger, Mila clenched her teeth and instinctively shifted into her wolf form — a smoky gray werewolf with white patches on her paws and tail. She was large, powerful, but still not quite large enough.

Driven by pride and the sting of being thoroughly beaten, Mila lunged forward, determined to force Addison to the ground and reclaim her dignity. But Addison didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look nervous. Instead, she smiled.

Just as Mila leapt, Addison vaulted high into the air, narrowly avoiding the attack. She landed squarely on Mila’s back, grabbing onto her thick fur with one hand for balance. With her other hand, Addison began raining down blow after blow, each punch landing hard and fast on the same spot, making Mila whine and thrash in protest. But Addison held on, relentless, refusing to be thrown off.

At first, the Alpha King and Queen leapt to their feet, ready to intervene. They knew Addison couldn’t shift — her wolf had remained unresponsive for years — and they feared she’d be seriously hurt going head-to-head with a full-shifted werewolf. But what they hadn’t expected... was this.

Addison wasn’t just holding her own — she was dominating.

Because Addison had no room for fear. What truly terrified her wasn’t facing a wolf in combat — it was the idea of being powerless. Powerless to fight, to defend, to protect what mattered most. Especially now that she had pups of her own to shield from the dangers of the world.

If she couldn’t rely on a wolf form, then she would hone her human one until it was sharper than claws and tougher than fangs.

She had to be strong. There was no other choice.

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