A Female Alpha’s Revenge novel Chapter 682

Third Person’s POV

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Ulrik couldn’t avoid it anymore. He told them what happened, his voice unnaturally low, sounding like a confession. “She had an argument with Rosemary, and Rosemary threw a medicine cup at her. She ducked and lost her footing. She fell…”

Cynthia gasped sharply, her wolf exploding with shock.

She leaned against the cold corridor wall, steadying herself, and demanded, “What? Your mother actually–threw something at a she–wolf carrying your cub?”

Ulrik’s face was pale with guilt. His wolf was roaring softly, a hint of bitter self–blame in his scent. He quickly explained, “My mother was absolutely wrong.”

He took a deep breath, forcing down his aura to avoid disturbing Gloria in the room. “But the priority right now is saving Gloria. The doctor said Gloria has a history of miscarriage. Her uterus was already damaged, and her blood vessels are fragile. The shock of the fall makes severe hemorrhaging very likely. The bleeding is serious; we have to deliver the baby fast and then stabilize her with anti–hemorrhage medicine and runes.”

Cynthia, who had been furious, heard the words “history of miscarriage” and froze completely, like she had been nailed to the floor. Her knuckles slowly tightened, revealing a pale, ghostly outline of wolf claws-“He knows about that?”

Christine, standing beside her, quickly sensed the sudden tension and interjected softly to diffuse it. “Let’s not focus on that now. Saving them is what matters. Let the doctor proceed with the plan.”

“The doctor also said,” Ulrik added, his throat constricted, the low growl barely suppressed, “the other option is to get Dr. Digby here to set up a high–level healing rune array. But it’s dark now, Dr. Digby might not be at the medical center, and we’d lose time traveling. That’s why the doctor suggested the emergency plan first.”

His pheromones were leaking in waves, carrying the corrosive scent of rust and repressed blood. The medical omegas nearby nervously strained their ears.

The doctor had finished mixing the anti–hemorrhage medication. A faint herbal scent drifted from the liquid, contained within the medical rune array.

Christine followed him into the delivery room. She saw Gloria drenched in sweat, looking as though she’d been pulled out of the river. Her het, damp pheromones mixed with the scent of blood, stinging the throat.

Gloria was deathly pale, her lips blue from blood loss. Her eyes were vacant. The ordeal of

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Chapter 682

labor, compounded by the fall, had visibly worn her down.

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Her wolf was curled deep inside, only occasionally letting out a faint whimper, struggling to maintain the rhythm of contractions.

Seeing Christine, Gloria instinctively looked around, calling weakly, “Mother…”

In this moment of literal life–and–death separation from her child, her mother was the person she trusted most.

Christine stepped forward, gently gripping Gloria’s sweat–soaked chin and forcing her to look up. Her tone was firm, carrying the slight aura of a high–ranking wolf to stabilize Gloria’s erratic pheromones. “Drink this anti–hemorrhage medicine. Don’t be afraid. Mother is waiting right outside. You’ll be fine once you drink it.”

Gloria’s fingers trembled violently on the sheets. She choked the bitter, burning liquid down her throat. Tears streamed down her face.

She gripped Christine’s hand hard, her knuckles digging into her skin. Her voice was thin and trembling with sobs. “Am I going to die? Am I… am I dying?”

Her voice was barely a whisper, her wolf wailing along with her.

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Christine soothed, pressing down on her shoulders to keep her from thrashing during the next contraction. “You won’t. Don’t worry, Mother and I will stay here the whole time. You just focus on delivering the baby. Leave everything else to us.”

She gave the midwife a look. The midwife nodded, adjusting her breathing and her own scent field, immediately suppressing any personal pheromone fluctuations. She focused entirely on helping Gloria through the final stage of labor–they were racing against time.

A piercing scream soon sliced through the air above the pack again, a sound like a wolf’s howl ripped open, carrying the scent of blood and despair, vibrating through the rune arrays across the entire estate.

Cynthia and Ulrik’s hearts plummeted simultaneously in the corridor outside. Even their wolves involuntarily bristled.

But after that scream, the clear, sharp cry of a baby was noticeably absent.

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