Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 75: Pork Cutlet

"Imagine having to work your ass off assisting the election for the future king or queen, but you’re forced to sleep in a humble room like this—no massage chair, no TV, no yoga space, not even a bathtub to soak your sore body after a whole day? Nah, thank you." Chasey added.

"Don’t tell me you wanted to become an aide just because of the dorm’s lavish facilities!" Lethia asked with a smirk.

"Oh my queen... I live the humble life of a middle-class omega. Is it so wrong to chase a bit of luxury as motivation for a career?"

Lethia chuckled, stepping toward her bed. "Who am I to judge? I’m no better than you anyway."

Chasey pressed her lips together and, while lying flat on her stomach, crawled her way closer to Lethia’s bed. "So, what’s your plan?"

"Plan?"

"Hm... A plan to bring your ex-husband down."

Lethia, who had been gently stroking her belly, fell silent. Chasey’s words hit like a soft slap to the face, sharp enough to awaken nerves she tried to bury, dragging that ache in her chest right back to the surface.

A plan...

When she first begged Renar to help her apply as an executive aide, honestly, it had been impulsive.

This was the only way she could even get close to the level Varrel stood on now.

But as time passed, she’d started mapping out her steps—how to reclaim her ranch, how to take back what was hers. She’d thought it through, step by step, along the way. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

Until today, when Chasey asked about bringing him down.

Lethia realised she’d been so focused on the technicalities of taking back the ranch... she’d almost forgotten that Varrel needed to suffer too. Just as much as she had

"Humiliate him."

Lethia shot a glance at Chasey, who blinked rapidly at her.

"That’s the first thing I’ll make sure to do the moment I get a chance. Humiliate him," Lethia added, her tone cutting clean.

"You don’t even have a plan yet, do you?" Chasey quipped like a smug little fortune-teller, instantly getting on Lethia’s nerves.

"Plan?"

Lethia swung her legs to the floor, leaned in close to Chasey, her brow arching with confidence.

"I don’t need a plan. Because... my existence is the plan itself."

She smirked, and Chasey stared at her, completely speechless, before huffing and disappearing into the bathroom to clean herself up.

The thing is, Chasey had a point, because Lethia hadn’t made any concrete plan for Varrel.

How could she?

From the moment she woke up in that hospital after being stabbed, everything had spiraled into chaos, especially with the fox spirit possessing her. She hadn’t had the time to sit and plot revenge like some villainess in a drama.

But one thing she believed—if she could stand in the same circle as Varrel again, it’d be easy to pick apart his weaknesses. And the moment she found it... She’d take her ranch back.

She turned on the tap and splashed her face with water, the sound of it washing over her like a memory, dragging her back to that humiliating rejection night.

Perhaps she had been blind, too intoxicated to catch the stench of Varrel’s lies.

She no longer knew if the Varrel she once knew had ever really existed... or if he’d just been some beautifully dressed clown in a cruel joke.

There was one thing Lethia knew for sure:

Varrel couldn’t handle humiliation. Not even a little.

Because during their marriage, she had made sure no flaw of his ever saw the light of day.

And if that still held true...

Then she was the only one who knew exactly how to tear him down. And she couldn’t wait to prove it.

It was already five in the afternoon when Chasey and Lethia made their way to the assembly hall for the briefing on tomorrow’s team assignment.

Lethia flinched in shock when Chasey yanked her back—turns out, she was pulling her away from slipping into a wet floor sign.

"Who the hell were you texting so hard that you nearly assaulted the innocent wet floor sign?" Chasey asked, laced with sarcasm.

"Ah—thank you."

Still startled by the sudden tug, Lethia quickly shoved her phone into her pocket.

"I was texting my roommate. And letting her know I won’t be coming home," she lied without blinking.

Lethia had been busy replying to Renar, who was ranting about her ignoring his calls after she told him the exam would last two days and she’d be sleeping at the Lykon Haven guestroom tonight.

She hadn’t answered on purpose—no way she wanted Chasey finding out she was living with Renar.

"Roommate? I’m surprised someone as picky as hell like you can even tolerate living with another person," Chasey quipped, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, I’m surprised too." Lethia gave a nonchalant shrug.

"But it’s cheaper. Rent in Ashenhold is insane—even for a tiny two-person room. I’m broke, you know..."

Chasey pouted. "Yeah... sucks that in the countryside, the law won’t let someone get assets from divorce unless there was domestic abuse. Infidelity doesn’t mean sh*t, right?"

She sighed, then perked up with a cheeky grin.

"Now that I think about it... We have to get accepted as executive aides, make a lot of money, and bring back your lavish life, my Queen."

Lethia let out a sigh, guilt tugging at her as she watched Chasey speak with all that burning enthusiasm.

Varrel had made a drastic change to the laws in the Obsidian Pack—at least since he joined one of Ashenhold’s powerhouse parties.

She’d received enough alimony from him to never work a day again... not that she’d touched a single coin of it.

She still had her private savings and... well, ever since she arrived in Ashenhold, she hadn’t really needed to spend much. Living lavishly under Renar’s protection kind of did that.

By the time they reached the briefing hall, tension clung to the faces of every candidate like sweat.

"Oh gosh, I really hope this doesn’t take long. I’m starving again and tonight’s cafeteria dinner is pork cutlet. It’s been forever since I’ve had that," Chasey muttered, practically drooling.

Lethia scanned the room—yeah, the others looked just as serious, whispering and eyeing each other with unease

Then suddenly, four holographic screens lit up.

Not long after, profile photos of each candidate popped up neatly across the screens.

Alongside each photo were their stats—stamina, speed, accuracy, and mental reflexes—all laid bare.

Then a woman’s voice echoed across the hall. No one could tell where it came from—some hidden speaker, maybe.

"To all candidates, these are your individual assignment results. They are shown openly and transparently—so you can choose the right teammates for tomorrow’s challenge."

"What is she talking about?"

"What does that even mean?"

"Oh god... my score’s embarrassing."

The room instantly buzzed with hushed murmurs.

But Lethia knew one thing for damn sure—whatever that announcement meant, Chasey wasn’t going to enjoy her pork cutlet in peace.