The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna
Chapter 180 Tigren Tribe

Chapter 180: Chapter 180 Tigren Tribe

Their Chieftain was said to be the strongest in generations, more powerful than any of his predecessors and far more unpredictable than the weather. So, as Elric and the Royal Advisor stood atop the hill overlooking the Tigren camp, a sense of unease settled over them.

They had come with an offer: to purchase the biochemical agent rumored to be in the tribe’s possession. But even that information was shaky at best. The source? A passing merchant’s offhand comment, one overheard by the Royal Advisor himself.

It sounded far too convenient, almost suspiciously so. The Royal Advisor had his doubts from the beginning. Information like that didn’t just fall into your lap by accident, especially when you needed it most.

Which meant someone had likely arranged for them to hear it. Someone who wanted them to come here. Perhaps even the Chieftain himself.

But with no other options left, the Royal Advisor had brought the lead to the Alpha King. And now, here they were, hoping they hadn’t walked straight into a trap.

More than anything, he wanted to understand the Gypsy Chieftain’s true motive for extending a hand. The Royal Advisor could only hope that the Tigren, renowned for their love of war, pleasure, and freedom, weren’t as cunning and scheming as their reputation suggested. That hope was the only reason he’d even considered coming here to negotiate. They were out of options, grasping at straws.

As they walked deeper into the encampment, both Elric and the royal advisor, now could be called as elders, observed their surroundings with quiet caution. There were far more warriors than women in sight, and these Tigren warriors were nothing short of intimidating.

Towering at an average of 6’6", they were built like tanks, broader and bulkier than even werewolves. Despite Elric and the advisor being physically capable themselves, they felt somewhat dwarfed in comparison.

The Tigren men bore sun-darkened skin, likely from a life spent roaming wild landscapes under the open sky. Their sheer physical presence spoke of constant combat and untamed living.

And the women, though fewer in number, were just as striking in their own way, sculpted hourglass figures, sun-kissed skin that bordered on bronze, and faces untouched by blemish. Their clothing was minimal, made of light, airy fabric that was revealing and barely concealed what it was meant to hide, accentuating rather than concealing their curves.

Despite their age and experience, both Elric and the Royal Advisor instinctively swallowed hard, quickly averting their gazes. They tried their best not to stare. But the scarcity of women among the Tigren only made their presence all the more pronounced.

Out of the hundreds of warriors stationed in the camp, only a dozen or so were women. There wasn’t a single child in sight. Perhaps, knowing visitors were coming, they had hidden the children, along with the pregnant women and mothers, leaving only the adult females visible.

Still, that wasn’t their concern, so they stopped scrutinizing the camp. Elric and the Royal Advisor reminded themselves of their purpose and continued toward the center of the camp, where the largest tent stood, clearly the Chieftain’s quarters.

But just as they neared it, only a few meters away, the Royal Advisor abruptly stopped in his tracks.

"Ah! Ah! My Lord, slow down!" A woman’s breathy, coquettish voice rang out, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping together. The Advisor didn’t need to think twice to understand what was happening; the Chieftain was clearly in the middle of mating inside the tent.

In broad daylight, no less.

He quickly looked down, relieved that Elric, being human, hadn’t picked up on the sounds. As for the Royal Advisor himself, he wasn’t fazed; this was, after all, part of the shifter’s nature, and such behavior was considered normal among them. Still, he had no intention of interrupting the Chieftain during such a private moment, so he came to a halt.

Elric shot him a confused look, but the Royal Advisor held up a hand to silently signal him to wait. If they could hear the sounds inside, then surely the Chieftain had heard their footsteps as well. All they could do now was wait.

The Royal Advisor also suddenly understood why the area around the Chieftain’s tent had been conspicuously empty, likely a deliberate choice. The Chieftain must have forbidden anyone from coming close while he was mating, his territorial instincts keeping other males far from his woman.

The Royal Advisor and Elric waited nearly an hour before a deep, commanding voice finally called out from within the tent. "Come in."

A moment later, two women emerged in a rush, barely dressed, their flushed faces avoiding eye contact as they slipped past the visitors.

As Elric and the Royal Advisor stepped closer, the strong, unmistakable scent of mixed sex fluids clung to the air, thick and lingering. The tent hadn’t been aired out, let alone cleaned, and Elric couldn’t help but notice traces of white, sticky fluid still visible on parts of the floor, evidence of a wild, unrestrained encounter that had likely taken place across the entire tent.

Though a frown tugged at his brow and a few words rose to his lips, Elric forced himself to stay silent. They hadn’t come here to judge; there was a mission, and time was of the essence.

No matter how uncomfortable Elric felt, it couldn’t be compared to the Royal Advisor, whose heightened werewolf senses were practically drowning him in the heavy scent lingering in the air.

With his acute sense of smell, the Advisor could tell that the Chieftain and his women had been at it for quite some time, even before he and Elric arrived to negotiate. Still, he composed himself, schooling his expression as he looked up to face the man seated before them.

The Chieftain lounged casually on a long rosewood chair, one leg propped up, an arm resting lazily on his knee while the other leg was bent at ease. He radiated satisfaction, clearly content after working off his considerable sex drive with the women. Leaning back slightly, he looked down at the two visitors with a calm, predatory gaze.

Elric blinked in surprise. He had already thought the warriors outside were massive, but the Chieftain made them seem almost average. Towering at what must have been around 6’8", the man resembled a hulking bear.

Yet, despite his powerful physique, his face was strikingly handsome, almost unnaturally so. Unlike the sun-kissed warriors outside, his skin was pale, almost ivory white. His hair, lashes, and even brows were pure white, creating a sharp contrast to his eyes: brilliant gold with a slit pupil, like a predatory cat. The combination made him both mesmerizing and dangerous.

The scratches left by the women on his skin were still faintly bloodied, though already beginning to heal.

He wore nothing but a pair of loose pants, completely unconcerned with decorum or formalities, in stark contrast to the customs upheld by werewolves’ Royalty. His relaxed demeanor and lack of modesty served as a silent declaration of how free-spirited the Tigren truly were.

From his appearance alone, the Royal Advisor immediately recognized the Chieftain as an Albino Tigren, a rare phenomenon said to occur only once in a hundred years. In Tigren lore, Albino Tigrens are regarded as divine beings, descendants of their War God, revered for their unmatched strength and dominance.