A Female Alpha’s Revenge novel Chapter 432

Third Person’s POV

Lance let Tommy drive the modified jeep and stayed by Marsh’s side.

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Even as Marsh slipped into unconsciousness, his neck glands pale from blood loss, Lance gently cradled his hand with his warm palm. His white musk pheromones seeped into Marsh’s cold skin like warm water.

In a soothing tone, he described the rejuvenating Southern Border plains and the amusing antics of his pups learning to hunt. The calming elements in his voice, like moon grass sap, softened the tension.

When he mentioned Marsh’s mate was on her way, a faint tenderness laced his white musk. “She’ll be here soon. You’ll embrace under the full moon.”

At these words, Marsh’s chaotic pheromones steadied, his labored breathing syncing with Lance’s voice.

Occasionally, he’d struggle to open his eyes, the white film over his wolf pupils thinning slightly, a flicker of hope–a desire for reunion–lighting his gaze.

This injured werewolf warrior, relying purely on the indomitable resilience deep within his wolf spirit, clung stubbornly to his last breath.

It was the warrior’s obsession with life and reunion that, like a candle flickering in the wind, burned obstinately under Lance’s pheromone reassurance.

As they neared Frostbite Town–sixty to seventy miles remained–the group was forced to halt.

Marsh’s breaths grew shallow and irregular, his vital signs fading.

The military doctor, exhausted his repertoire, glanced at Lance with resignation. “I’ve done all I can. We’ve reinforced treatments twice today. I can’t continue.”

The Eugenius Scout Team stood together, hearts heavy.

They couldn’t bear to look at Marsh–his emaciated, scarred figure was too painful to witness.

Lance turned to Klein, his eyes questioning.

Klein sighed. “This is our last option. If you channel your wolf energy to stabilize his vitals, if we don’t reach Frostbite Town within an hour–whether we make it or not, and Digby isn’t there–Marsh is beyond saving.”

Lance nodded, sorrow etched in his gaze. “I know. Even if we reach the medical station and Digby arrives, if he has no other solutions, the outcome remains the same.”

“Rushing seventy miles in an hour is risky. His body might not withstand the speed,” Klein added.

Silence fell.

The main roads here were far from smooth. The Southern Border, scarred by war, was riddled with potholes. Driving here was nerve–wracking, with the constant fear of overturning.

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Chapter 432

Even at slow speeds, the journey was perilous. Speeding up would be even more dangerous.

If the vehicle overturned, Marsh would almost certainly not survive.

“Let’s proceed with this plan,” Klein said.

“Have two people lie in the vehicle, cushioned by soft pads. Marsh can rest atop them. Those below must use their strength to absorb shocks and keep him comfortable.”

Everyone stepped forward, volunteering, “Let me lie at the bottom.”

Caldwell glanced at the crowd–some injured, others exhausted–and pulled Tommy aside, saying, “We’ll do it.”

“We can do it…” others persisted.

Caldwell raised a hand for silence, “No more arguments. It’s us. If trouble hits, Tommy and I are quick enough to get us out of it.”

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