The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna-Chapter 69 Alpha Maxwell Is Unwell

Yet, the problems they faced were far from over, and worse, they had no solid explanation prepared for what was to come. If things continued like this, all the blame would inevitably fall on two people: Greg and Addison. But more than Greg, it would be Addison who bore the weight of suspicion. freёnovelkiss.com

After all, Greg’s actions could be framed as a misguided but loyal attempt to protect the royal princess and her unborn child. Even if he took things too far, it could be spun as an act of vengeance or overzealous protection. In contrast, Addison had no such shield. Her actions—or rather, the twisted narrative surrounding them—offered no justification, no pardon. And without proof to defend her, she would be the one to suffer most under the weight of the accusations.

Zion leaned back with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in mounting frustration. "What options do we even have left to prove Addison’s innocence?" he muttered, the question sounding more like a desperate thought spoken aloud than something directed at Levi. The Beta remained silent—he, too, had no answer.

But before either of them could say more, a voice came through the mindlink.

"Alpha Zion, the Royal Convoy is requesting an audience."

Zion’s heart skipped a beat. He instantly straightened, his posture going rigid as he looked at Levi. The color had begun to drain from his face.

In the Royal Capital, Addison’s condition showed no signs of improvement. Meanwhile, the Royal Mage had finally gathered all the materials and ingredients needed to create the portal. However, both Maxwell and Hue remained confined—though "imprisoned" might have been too strong a word. They were being treated more like honored guests, with lavish meals and fine drinks served daily.

Hue, ever the laid-back one, leaned comfortably in his seat, sipping wine with clear enjoyment. After all, it wasn’t every day one had access to such exquisite liquor—vintages typically reserved as tribute for the Royal Family.

"Alpha Maxwell, what should we do?" Hue asked casually between bites of roasted chicken leg, his tone relaxed as he washed the meat down with a generous gulp of beer.

Maxwell, standing by the grand window with a pendant held tightly in his hand, didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the sprawling rose garden below—an explosion of color and life that sharply contrasted the heaviness in his heart.

"What choice do we have but to stay here until the Alpha King releases us?" Maxwell said, his voice calm, but his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil—flickering with agitation and restlessness. "Still, it’s a good thing we managed to uncover a clue about the dark witch. If we can trace the source of her curse, we might be able to identify the one who cast it."

"But then..." Hue began, but before he could continue—

"Ugh!" Maxwell suddenly groaned, clutching his chest as he dropped to his knees. Cold sweat broke across his forehead and soaked his back. His breath hitched, labored and shallow, as if an army of ants were gnawing at his heart from the inside. "Gasp!" he wheezed, trying to draw in air, but the pain only intensified.

At that very moment, the Alpha King entered, intending to question Maxwell further about the curse—its nature, and how to break it. But he froze in the doorway at the sight before him: Maxwell collapsed on the floor, trembling and barely conscious. His complexion was ashen, his condition dire. He looked as if he were dying.

"Quickly! Bring Alpha Maxwell to the medical ward!" the Alpha King barked, his voice echoing through the corridor like a thunderclap. At his command, the guards immediately sprang into action. Hue, unfazed by the chaos, quickly stepped in to help the bodyguards lift Maxwell onto a stretcher. Together, they rushed him toward the ward, urgency in every step.

Inside the medical wing, the atmosphere was already tense—staff were still scrambling to stabilize Addison. Fortunately, the Royal Healer’s disciples had taken over the task of keeping Addison’s heart beating. Though their healing abilities were weaker than the Royal Healer’s, working in tandem allowed them to maintain her fragile condition without further deterioration. It gave the Healer a much-needed chance to rest and regain his strength.

Meanwhile, the Royal Doctor had stepped out to prepare a specialized concoction to ward off potential infections—any slight complication could push Addison’s fragile state past the point of no return.

At the same time, the Royal Alchemist had been summoned to create an elixir designed to stabilize her internal injuries. If successful, it might reduce the need for constant healing, giving Addison a better chance of survival and preventing her heart from slipping into cardiac arrest.

As the medical staff rushed to treat Addison, the doors suddenly burst open—revealing the Alpha King and his bodyguards. Their sudden entrance caused everyone to freeze momentarily. But then came another wave of pressure as a stretcher was brought in, carrying none other than Alpha Maxwell. The tension in the room spiked as the staff quickly adjusted, knowing they had two critical patients to care for.

To ensure Addison remained the main focus, Maxwell was placed on the bed next to hers, just close enough for monitoring but far enough not to interfere. He was clutching his chest, barely breathing, and pale with pain.

However, the moment his body touched the mattress, something unexpected happened—he suddenly stopped clutching his chest and gasped, drawing in a deep breath as though he had just been pulled back from death. The abrupt shift startled everyone in the room—none more so than Hue.

"Eh?! This is the first time Alpha Maxwell has recovered this fast. Usually, it takes days for him to come out of that kind of pain," Hue muttered, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

His words, though casual, were heard by nearly everyone. Most of those present were werewolves, their enhanced hearing making eavesdropping effortless, aside from the few human or non-wolf staff members in the room.

"What do you mean by that?!" the Alpha King was the first to react to Hue’s comment. His voice was sharp, laced with concern. What Hue said didn’t sound trivial—it hinted at something much more serious. And from what the Alpha King had just witnessed, this clearly wasn’t some ordinary health issue.

A heart condition? That didn’t make sense. Werewolves were born with strong, resilient bodies. A wolf with a weak heart would never rise to the rank of Alpha. Could it be a side effect of a broken or decaying mate bond? That was also unlikely—there was no visible mark on Maxwell’s neck to suggest he’d been bonded at all. The more the Alpha King thought about it, the more perplexed he became. Just what exactly was Alpha Maxwell suffering from?

But Hue couldn’t answer. He simply pressed his lips into a thin line, avoiding the Alpha King’s gaze. It wasn’t that he was trying to ignore the question—he just knew it wasn’t his place to speak. Revealing Alpha Maxwell’s condition wasn’t something he could do lightly. It had to come from Maxwell himself.

The truth was complicated—far too tangled for Hue to unravel with a simple explanation. And to even begin, he would have to start from the very beginning, from where they truly came from... and that wasn’t a short tale. It was a story layered with secrets, history, and consequences too heavy for anyone else to tell.