Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 173: Murky Photograph

Lethia swept her gaze across the aged house.

She swallowed hard when she realized how impossible it was to stumble upon an abandoned place like this in the middle of the forest—unless someone had been familiar with the location.

"You walked here so confidently. Are your memories vivid about your past?"

Whisney purred.

["No. It’s just my instinct. I even doubt myself if this is really where I used to be."]

"Well, you’ve traveled way too far if your instinct was right."

["If this is true, you must know this continent once belonged to the same land as your continent before doomsday."]

Lethia inhaled the air, thick with the scent of dried leaves and wet earth.

Well, this forest sat at the foot of a mountain. And spirit foxes only lived in seclusion on mountains. In her country, there were no mountains. So, what Whisney said made sense.

After doomsday, land and sea shifted with tectonic rage. Many lands sank, and new ones emerged. That only strengthened Whisney’s theory.

"What do you want me to do here? And isn’t your mission only to cultivate your beads, grow nine tails, and ascend to your realm? What’s the use of digging up old memories?" Lethia asked curtly.

Whisney’s silence made her feel guilty for being too harsh.

"I mean... do you want to know what this house holds for you, or..."

["I just want to know what kind of person my first love is. Why... why would an almighty fox like me remember something cringey like a first love."]

Lethia chuckled. Whisney was still the same prideful Whisney after all. She thought she had changed into a more tame fox.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Lethia dragged her feet into the house’s yard, which was now overgrown with wild plants and covered in dead leaves.

The house was massive, like an old mansion. From outside, Lethia could see a balcony on the second floor.

The whole atmosphere stood in stark contrast with the modern world of Ashenhold. Even in her ranch, in the countryside, no house had ever carried such an ancient model as this one.

The creak of the wooden steps rang under her feet as she reached the terrace.

She wondered how old this house was, and why it had never rotted, collapsed, burned, or vanished with time.

But from the thick moss clinging to its walls, and the massive buttress roots curling along every corner of the floor, Lethia felt as though the house was tied into the earth—unmovable, unshaken.

Her hand grasped the knob, turning. It wouldn’t budge.

"I can’t open it. Must’ve rusted," Lethia grumbled, still twisting at the handle.

["Let me take over your body."]

"You never ask for permission before, so why now?" she muttered. But in a snap, her body slipped out of her control.

Her feet stepped back, her right leg lifted—and with one swift motion, it kicked the door open, a deafening bam echoing as the entrance swung wide.

’Whoa... why would I even bother to help? You can handle it yourself. Just take over my body until we’re back at the farm,’ Lethia mumbled to Whisney.

"Sure, I’ll do that," Whisney answered, using Lethia’s voice.

Her feet controlled by Whisney, she walked inside the house. Inside, there were no furnishings. Only the tall wooden wardrobes remained in the rooms.

For the first time, Lethia felt something strange—it was the first time the fox ever did something purely for herself.

It made Lethia curious too, about Whisney’s life.

It wasn’t impossible for a many-tailed fox to fall in love. And from her own research, Lethia knew that once they did, they would stay loyal for life, bound heart and soul to their partner.

There were many stories she had read about them—foxes who gave up their supernatural powers, choosing to live as ordinary humans just to stay beside their true love. They could not bear the pain of loss, so they chose mortality, so they could die alongside the one they loved.

But Whisney said this was her first love. So, since Whisney was still a spirit fox, it meant this first love was not her soulmate. Or worse, this curiosity, this return to the house, might only open an old wound.

Lethia herself didn’t even remember if she had a first love or not. But in most people’s stories, first love was always the first heartbreak.

She worried a little that the memories incited in Whisney might not be sweet at all, but bitter. Foxes did hold grudges, didn’t they?

Her steps now reached the second floor. And her gaze froze on what appeared before her.

She stood before a wall where a large framed photograph hung. The glass was murky, dirty, but still clear enough for her to see what it was. Her mouth opened and closed in disbelief.

’That’s...’ Lethia mumbled inwardly. ’Whisney, that’s you, right?’

Whisney didn’t answer, only drifted closer to the photograph.

’Look... that’s a nine-tailed fox. And that mole on the right side of the chin, it’s the same as yours!’ Lethia’s excitement burst loudly inside her head.

But Whisney still kept silent. Her gaze lingered deeply on the photograph.

The nine-tailed fox was on all fours, her tails blazing like fire.

From the background, it looked as if the photo had been taken right in front of this very house.

But by the way Whisney’s eyes darted, Lethia knew she wasn’t focused on the fox behind the murky glass of the frame.

There were human figures, five of them, posing alongside Whisney—three on her left, two on her right.

’Whisney... doesn’t that photo look creepy?’ Lethia tried to break the silence.

Through Lethia’s lips, Whisney smirked.

"Yes. It creeps me out. Don’t tell me, they lived together in this house. What a show. Foxes are lone creatures. I am a lone creature." Lethia’s voice trembled in disbelief.

’Whisney... that’s not what I’m talking about. Their heads... Someone deliberately made holes right through the heads in that photo. And... don’t you think it’s weird? Look at the glass of that frame. Only your part is quite visibly clear. Murky, yes, but not as blurred as the rest. It looks like...’

Lethia screamed inside her head, frantic, her heartbeat pounding out of sync with her body. Goosebumps crawled up her nape.

"Looks like someone, from time to time, just cleaned that part. Just cleaned my part. Yeah... someone deliberately wanted me to see this."

Her voice turned grave, and Lethia’s teeth ground together tight.