Alpha Ruined My Family After Giving Him My Heart
I once loved Ethan, but his revenge destroyed my family-my dad killed himself, mom burned alive.
He caged and tormented me, unaware I'd given him my heart for his transplant.
Ten years of hell, 200 suicide attempts.
When my artificial heart failed, I died.
Reborn, I fled, but Ethan returned, too late realizing his love.
At my bonding with Daniel, Ethan tried to intervene.
James and Susan stopped him, reminding him of his cruelties.
I moved on, happy with Daniel.
Ethan, banished, later saw our ceremony with pain......
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Chapter 2
That night, Ethan barged into my room, his knock sharp and impatient.
"Vanessa's craving coffee," he said. "Get to it."
I lowered my eyes and headed to the kitchen without a word.
In the kitchen, I poured grounds into the filter, cold water numbing my fingers.
My mind wandered to the old days when Ethan loved my coffee. He'd wrap his arms around my waist from behind, whispering, "My mate's got the perfect touch."
The machine gurgled, steam clouding my vision.
I swiped at my eyes, unsure if it was the heat or tears.
Three hours later, I stood outside the master bedroom, a steaming mug in hand. I knocked softly.
"Come in," Ethan's voice called.
I pushed the door open.
Vanessa lounged against the headboard, Ethan perched on the bed, stirring sugar into a glass-his signature twist of the spoon, a rhythm he'd learned just to match how I took my coffee.
"Your coffee," I said, setting the mug on the nightstand.
Vanessa took a sip, then yelped. "Scalding! Are you trying to burn me?"
I pressed my lips together. "I'll make it cooler."
The second mug came up, and she pushed it away after one taste.
"No sugar? Do you even listen?"
By the third, she barely sipped before shrieking, "Where's the milk? This is sludge!"
Her hand flicked, and the entire mug of hot coffee splashed across my chest.
I cried out, pain searing my skin, a red welt blooming instantly.
"Ethan!" Vanessa whimpered, cradling her unmarked fingers, tears pooling in her eyes.
"It burned me."
Ethan's face darkened. He kicked me hard, sending me stumbling back. "You trying to die?"
I crashed against the wall, pain blackening my vision.
"It wasn't me-she knocked it over herself."
"Shut up!" His snarl cut me off, his eyes glinting with malice.
"You're gonna lie now?"
He hit the buzzer, and two wolves appeared at the door.
"Lock her in the cold storage. One day, one night," Ethan ordered, his voice ice-cold. "Make sure she doesn't try anything stupid."
As they hauled me away, my shoulders scraping the floor, the last thing I saw seared into my eyes: Ethan lifted Vanessa's hand to his lips, his thumb brushing the back of her knuckles-the same slow, lazy stroke he used to trace down my spine. He blew softly, warm breath fanning her fingers, then pressed a kiss to each one.
The cold storage door slammed shut, and the freezing air sank into my bones.
I curled up in a corner, teeth chattering uncontrollably. The chill crept deeper, numbing my limbs, fogging my mind.
In my haze, I was back years ago.
I'd been rushed to the hospital with a severe case of wolfsbane poisoning-my throat swelling shut, skin blistering-when Ethan dropped a treaty signing with the rival pack to fly back for me.
The healers said I was teetering on the edge, so he camped by my bedside for three days straight, pressing cool cloths to my forehead and growling if the monitors beeped too loud.
Even the older wolves clucked, shaking their heads, "Never known an alpha to tend his mate like a mother wolf with her cub."
"Claire. Claire!"
His voice echoed in my head, laced with a panic I'd never heard before. A hallucination, it had to be. The Ethan of today wouldn't care if I froze to death.
When I came to, the sharp sting of antiseptic told me I was in a hospital. A healer's stern voice filled the room.
"Ethan, Claire's condition is critical, especially after that surgery she had-"
"Healer," I croaked, cutting him off. "I know my own body."
The room went silent.
Ethan stood by the window, his face unreadable in the backlight.
"As long as she's breathing, it's not my problem," he said. He didn't even glance up from the papers in his hand. "Save the sob story."
His phone buzzed.
In the same breath, his fingers slackened, the papers crumpling slightly as he swiped to answer.
"Hey, baby," he purred, "bill's taken care of. Be there before you finish that latte, promise."
He hung up and left without a glance.
I grabbed my phone, hands shaking, and opened Instagram.
Vanessa's latest post stared back at me-a photo of Ethan by her hospital bed, his eyes tender.
"Just a little burn, and he's losing his mind, staying up all night by my side~ Wouldn't even leave to pay the bill~" the caption read.
My hand drifted to my chest, where the artificial heart hummed faintly.
Ten days. That's all I had left.
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