A Female Alpha’s Revenge novel Chapter 690

Chapter 690

Chapter 690

Third Person’s POV

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They were, after all, linked by the “alliance through the mating bond,” and Christine, being from the Ironclaw Pack, usually kept her distance from the Bloodmoon’s internal drama.

But when it came to buying life–saving medicine, Rosemary never expected that Christine would insist on settling the bill down to the last penny, even at a moment like this.

Rosemary instinctively felt a rush of humiliation. It was the shame of being exposed as weak and broke in front of others.

She involuntarily clawed at the bedsheets and quickly gave Barbara a look, trying to maintain her dignity as the “former Bloodmoon Luna.”

There was no way she could utter the words.

Barbara immediately understood and, bracing herself, spoke up, her voice thin and tentative, “Christine…. could you advance us the money? We promise we will pay you back later.”

Christine raised an eyebrow, as if she’d heard an utterly illogical request. Her voice was calm and precise. “I rushed out the door. Why would I be carrying that much cash with me?”

Barbara’s voice was barely a whisper. “You could go back to the Ironclaw territory to get the money, and then go buy the medicine.”

Christine smiled–a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Wouldn’t that mean making unnecessary detours? I’d have to go all the way back to Ironclaw and then circle back to Digby Medical Center.”

Her gaze settled on Rosemary’s face, and she spoke every word clearly, “Why don’t you just give me the money now? You’ll have to pay it back eventually anyway. No matter how much the Bloodmoon territory has declined, you can’t tell me you don’t have twenty thousand dollars lying around.”

Rosemary’s face instantly turned purple. Her heart felt violently wrung in her chest–she knew this was a deliberate call–out.

Barbara frantically tried to smooth things over, her lips stiff. “Of course we do… it’s just that the person in charge of the accounts is currently not in the compound, so… we can’t access the cash right away.”

Christine stood up and adjusted her cuffs, her tone unhurried. “Then send someone to fetch the accountant back.”

She reported her plan as if it were a mundane schedule update, “I’ll go check on Gloria first. Once you send the money, I’ll take a trip to Digby Medical Center.”

She paused, then added a sentence that sounded polite but lacked any warmth. “The Ironclaw and the Bloodmoon still have a pact, so I won’t stand by and do nothing. But the pack that owes the debt must be the one to pay it.”

With a slight nod. Christine made her exit, her demeanor impeccable.

1/2

Chapter 690

31

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Stepping out of the wing, the damp evening wind of the Bloodmoon territory swept away the stifling atmosphere of the room.

Gloria had been kept in bed for rest these past few days. All noise in the villa was suppressed, leaving only the soft sound of patrolling wolf footsteps outside the window.

After the trauma of her difficult labor, she had become much quieter.

Every time the house fell silent, she would close her eyes and remember the moment she was nearly dragged into the darkness–like her whole wolf was thrown into icy water, limbs too heavy to move, with only a tiny instinct left to cling to life.

Before this, she always dismissed Tamara, seeing her as a weak she–wolf–the kind who jumped into a river after a scolding, failed at suicide, and then hanged herself. A pathetic, boneless creature, both laughable and pitiable.

But when she herself came close to death, feeling that chilling paralysis creeping over her body, and her own inner wolf couldn’t even manage a proper howl, she was forced to admit: for a she–wolf as timid and unsupported as Tamara, crossing that threshold to death twice must have required an unimaginable degree of despair.

The thought made her chest tighten painfully.

Guilt silently took root in her heart. At first, she desperately clung to the notion that Tamara’s death was Tamara’s choice, and she was not responsible.

She had only “said a few nasty things” and “managed the pack strictly.”

But Christine had systematically laid out those “nasty things” and “strict management” details.

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