A Female Alpha’s Revenge novel Chapter 692

Chapter 692

Third Person’s POV

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Inside the Digby Medical Center, the air was sharp and sterile, thick with the biting scent of antiseptic.

Christine walked up to the front desk and cut straight to the chase, identifying herself and requesting a batch of Danzel.

Since she was a new face, the desk physician stayed strictly professional, informing her that the formula was a controlled high–grade substance. It required a personal diagnosis from Dr. Digby before a script could be written.

“Oh, is it really that much of a hassle?” Christine arched an eyebrow, playing up her surprise. “You’re telling me I can’t just buy the meds without bringing the patient in?”

“That’s correct, ma’am,” the doctor replied, polite but firm.

“The supply of Danzel Formula is extremely tight. We have to follow protocol to make sure it goes to patients who actually need it.”

Christine didn’t push it.

“I see. I will order a specific consultation tomorrow.”

After expressing her thanks, she left with Sandra

At that moment, an assistant who had previously received them hurriedly chased after them.

“Christine! Hold on a second!”

He caught his breath and spoke loud enough for the room to hear.

“I know you’re trying to source those meds for Bloodmoon. Actually, they does have authorization to buy the Danzel Formula.”

A tiny spark of hope flickered in Sandra’s dull, gray eyes.

“But,” the assistant continued, his voice dropping into a cold, clinical tone as he feigned ignorance about the suicide, “we only hold that prescription on file for Tamara. If the Bloodmoon Pack is in such a desperate rush, just have Tamara come down and pick it up herself.”

Sandra’s hand gave a violent jerk. Tears carved paths through the deep wrinkles on her face as she let out a heavy, hollow sigh.

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Chapter 692

“Thanks for the heads–up,” Christine clipped out turning toward the car.

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Back at the Bloodmoon estate, Sandra delivered the news point–blank: Unless Tamara showed up in the flesh, they’d need to find another high–ranking noble with a matching heart condition and a spare medical quota to buy it for them.

Although there were not many nobles who needed to take Danzel, there were always some.

However, now no family was willing to use their precious medical quota for a malicious, toxic old Luna.

Touching the Bloodmoon Pack right now was social suicide; you’d get dragged through the mud right along with them.

Not even Lance’s proposal for the Independent She–Wolf Center could pull the public’s focus away from the “Trial of the Bloodmoon.”

From high–society Lunas to bottom–tier omegas–even the strays on the street–everyone was taking swings at Rosemary.

It was pure, unadulterated karmic hatred.

When word got out about the medical center’s “Tamara has to pick it up” policy, people practically cheered.

Werewolves were gathering at the Moonlight Altars, thanking the Moon Goddess for the cosmic justice. “Karma” was the only word on anyone’s lips.

Bloodmoon omegas heard the rumors but didn’t dare breathe a word to Rosemary, fearing the news would stop her heart then and there.

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After Sandra finished her report, Rosemary lay in bed, staring at nothing for a long, long time.

Whether she actually felt a shred of regret was anyone’s guess.

Christine figured maybe she did–but for a she–wolf as pathologically selfish as Rosemary, “regret” usually only showed up when death was actually knocking on the door.

Unfortunately, such regret could not change anything.

Christine stayed on to help, but her “help” ended at Gloria’s door. As far as Rosemary’s survival went, she was a cold–blooded spectator.

She never claimed to be a saint; she just played by her own rules.

She knew that if she went to Adelaide and begged, she could probably score the meds.

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Chapter 692

But if she did that, Tamara’s ghost would never find peace.

Meanwhile, Ulrik started cutting the cord. He began laying off the omegas in droves.

The once–mighty Bloodmoon Pack was hemorrhaging money it didn’t have.

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