Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 174: Whisney’s Last Love

From Whisney’s voice, Lethia could tell this photo was triggering her. She felt the heat spreading all over her body. That she was sure came from Whisney’s glare fixed on that photo.

’Have your memories recalled something?’

"I can feel it... that I once lived here. In these mountains. My spirit could sense the attachment toward this house that I can’t really put into words. And I don’t remember at all if I ever took this photo."

Whisney forced Lethia’s hand into a tight clench, her nails digging hard into her palm.

’So you can’t remember who they are?’

Whisney gave no answer. She dragged Lethia’s feet closer to the frame and studied it in detail.

Her eyes scanned the picture carefully. The three on the fox’s left side wore suits and pants like gentlemen from the gala. On her right, one in a red dress, another in a suit. Four men and one woman.

"Someone wants to play with me. How dare they?"

Lethia could feel her teeth grinding so hard she feared they might snap loose under the grit.

’Or maybe it’s not someone. Maybe another fox knows you. Maybe you’re not the last many-tailed fox still roaming this world?’

"We many-tailed foxes have a mind link, and it was the strongest bond, like you werewolves have toward each other. I would have felt it if that were the case. I’m certain, I’m the last one."

But Lethia was not so sure about that. Whisney had lived for hundreds of years. Who the hell could possibly know of her existence if not her own kind?

It reminded Lethia of her vow of revenge, of someone Whisney claimed she needed to kill. She suspected Whisney was still hiding something from her.

’Whisney... when Varrel kidnapped me, you said you wanted revenge, you wanted to kill. And all of that was based on your memories too. Can you tell me now, who is it that you need to avenge?’

Lethia’s body kept pacing back and forth in front of the dusty, damp, moss-scented frame.

"Oh, that’s..." she chuckled, "that’s my last love, from my last mortal body. He killed me before I finished cultivating all of my beads."

’Wait... didn’t you say you’ve been immortal for hundreds of years? What’s with this "killed you"?’

Lethia’s index finger dragged deliberately along the bottom edge of the frame. She could feel the rough grains of dust sticking to her fingertips.

"My spirit is the one that’s immortal. But I could reincarnate, and have a mortal body."

’Like what you did to me?’

"No. Right now I’m just possessing you. But with reincarnation, I would have my own mortal body with my mind solely in that body, not two minds tangled up like this."

Lethia still didn’t get it, lost in her confusion.

’But you cultivated your beads too right now, didn’t you?’

Whisney let out a heavy sigh from her lungs.

"I’ve only cultivated two beads, haven’t I? With every reincarnation, I have three beads to cultivate. But that vile man killed me before I could finish the other two. That’s why when we first met, I only had three tails. My mortal body died, but my spirit wandered because I hadn’t fully bloomed yet. My mortal body needs to die with all nine tails so I can reincarnate into the next life."

’So, you need to cultivate the other two, to ascend and be reincarnated again later?’

"I know you’re smart." A smile curved on her lips.

’And who is your last love?’

Whisney didn’t answer, her fingers still busy groping along the filthy, dust-caked frame.

’Why are you touching the photo like that? It’s dirty. That’s my hand.’ Lethia protested inwardly.

"Sshhh... wait a bit."

Now Whisney’s hand moved across the glass on her nine-tailed fox image.

’Answer me, who is this last love of yours? Is he still alive?’

Whisney scowled in frustration, as if what she had been searching for still refused to show itself.

"I don’t know. I only met him through my memories. Like when you had that nightmare where someone was stabbing someone, with wildfire raging behind them."

Lethia chuckled bitterly inside, a giggle curling with disbelief. ’You want me to help you kill someone when you yourself don’t even know who he is, or if the man even still has a body to kill at all?’

"Well, you saw it. He stabbed his own heart after killing me, so of course, he’s already dead. I just... I’m... Even though I’m half-sure he might have reincarnated, I want to find him. You know... everyone gets a chance to reincarnate somehow."

Lethia could hardly believe what she was hearing. This fox was beyond her understanding.

She, too, understood the pull of vengeance inside her heart—she had just tasted it herself with Varrel.

But reincarnation? She had never believed in that.

To Lethia, death itself was the ultimate end, the final road where vengeance met its full stop.

However, she couldn’t say that aloud to Whisney. She owed the fox too much. And debts must be paid.

’Well, let’s work on solving your puzzles when we go back after this trip. But with this newfound mystery of your first love, I think you need to choose which you prioritize more. I still have a baby to deliver, and you have two beads left to finish. Whisney... we’ve got too much on our plates. I’ll help you the best—’

Before Lethia could finish her words, her body jolted upright, suddenly stiff.

She felt all her muscles tighten, her head thrown back as if struck by lightning.

In that haze, she couldn’t even feel her feet against the ground.

Then a rush of scenes burst before her eyes, vivid as though she was living them.

She was at a party, wearing a sky-blue dress, swirling across the dance floor with the crowd.

The firm yet playful hands slid around her waist in the chaos, pulling her this way and that, laughter bubbling up with the music.

Then, in one sweeping tug, a stronger grip claimed her, and she crashed against the solid chest of a man.

She smiled. He smiled.

Her fingers traced along the sharp line of his cheek as if searching him, because he wore a mask—a silver mask.

And then, drowning in the gravity of his allure, she was certain he would kiss her. Her eyes fluttered closed.