A Female Alpha’s Revenge (Adelaide) novel Chapter 676

**Chapter 676**

**Third Person’s POV**

The world around Rosemary faded into an abyss with a resounding thud echoing in her mind, leaving her breathless for a fleeting moment. Darkness enveloped her, and she collapsed, her consciousness slipping away like sand through fingers.

Moments later, the lights blazed to life, illuminating the scene with a harsh glare.

The patrol guards and night staff, alerted by the commotion, rushed toward the front yard, their expressions a mix of confusion and dread.

There, beneath the sprawling branches of the maple tree, lay Tamara. Her body was already cold and stiff, a tragic testament to her final choice. Using a rough hemp rope she had found tucked away in a corner of the yard, she had hanged herself from the tree, her lifeless form swaying gently in the night breeze. There were no steps or stools beneath her—she had climbed the tree, tied the rope securely, placed the noose around her neck, and leaped into the void.

The maple tree’s trunk was slender, and the rope had carved a deep groove into its bark, a cruel mark of the despair that had taken root. Yet, Tamara had been so slight, so fragile; the tree had borne her weight without protest.

After surviving the treacherous, icy waters of the river, she had chosen to end her life right at Rosemary’s doorstep. Ulrik, his heart heavy with sorrow, took it upon himself to cut Tamara down from the tree. As he cradled her body in his arms, he felt his hands tremble uncontrollably, the chill of her lifeless form seeping into his bones, turning his fingertips a sickly shade of blue.

Nearby, Simon was a picture of torment, his entire being quaking with grief. The wolf within him was on the brink of collapse, and he let out a muffled howl, his eyes bloodshot and filled with unshed tears. Yet, he found himself unable to touch Tamara’s body. Just the night before, he had made a solemn promise to Emerson that he would “treat Tamara right.”

The Tamara who had once been vibrant and full of life was now a mere shell, a lifeless corpse before him. For Simon, this was a bitter “consequence” he was unwilling to confront.

Tamara had succumbed to the frigid embrace of the night, leaving behind no farewell for the Bloodmoon Pack. All the words she had wished to express had already been spoken at Digby Medical Center.

Vanya, roused by the chaos, shot up from her sickbed, ignoring the lingering weakness in her body. Supported by her omega, she hurried to the main courtyard, her heart pounding in her chest.

Upon seeing Tamara’s motionless form draped with a white sheet, Vanya’s tears erupted like a dam breaking, cascading down her cheeks. “This is too much… this is truly too much…” she repeated, her voice choked with sorrow.

In a tender gesture, she removed her own cloak and carefully laid it over Tamara, her movements gentle as if tucking a child into bed.

As she looked up at Simon, her eyes were a storm of pain and fury. In a moment of raw emotion, she raised her hand and struck him hard across the face, the sound of the slap echoing in the stillness.

But the dead cannot be resurrected.

The blow was hollow in the face of such overwhelming tragedy.

From this day forward, she resolved to no longer interfere in Isaiah’s family matters.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify