My legs felt like they were made of lead.
"As for Ava, she will not truly perish. Once her heart is transplanted into Stella, her essence will find a new vessel. She will be reborn in another form, another identity. However, the transition will not be easy. During the heart - transplant, she will experience an overwhelming sense of near - death, a trial she must endure to ensure Stella's survival."
I closed my eyes tightly, the pain in my chest almost unbearable. In Alpha Hector's eyes, I was nothing but a disposable thing. He thought I could just die and come back, as if my feelings didn't matter. I had always been so stupid, agreeing to his every demand without question, just to win a bit of his affection. Before, it was always about giving in to Stella's needs, and now, he was asking me to give up my life.
I had always known that Alpha Hector was in love with my twin sister, Stella. The only reason I'd been able to stay by his side for those long seven years was my face, the face that looked so much like hers.
Everything changed when Stella, sick with severe heart failure, returned to our pack.
Alpha Hector had made his cruel request: he wanted my heart.
Every time I refused, he grew colder, his eyes like chips of ice. Finally, he'd lashed out. "Why do you have to be so difficult? You're just a pathetic little thing chasing after me. If you'd just agree, I might even feel sorry for you. Why can't you be more reasonable?"
Reasonable?
Alpha Hector was smart, his shrewdness allowing him to become the alpha of the powerful Rivermoon Pack at such a young age. But his heart was as cold as the deepest winter in the wolf - covered forests.
Finally, I gave in. "I promise you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, my throat tight with unshed tears.
The wizard told me that once I donated my heart, my current body would die completely.
In that moment, I decided I never wanted to see Alpha Hector again.
When we got home, I was in a daze.
I never expected what happened next. Alpha Hector, the cold - hearted alpha, put on an apron and disappeared into the kitchen.
A little while later, he came out carrying a bowl of French onion soup, the rich smell of caramelized onions and melted cheese wafting towards me.
"Have some soup to warm yourself up. Don't you love French onion soup the most?" he asked, his voice almost gentle.
I looked at the soup, the golden - brown crust of cheese on top, and my heart ached. "It's Stella who loves French onion soup,"
His hand froze in mid - air, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But then, he said nonchalantly, "You two are sisters. Your tastes should be similar."
I laughed bitterly. Our tastes were as different as night and day. But he only remembered Stella's likes and dislikes.
"I hate French onion soup," I said, my voice rising. "I can't stand the smell of onions. It's disgusting, revolting. Eating it is like swallowing something rotten."
"Eating this is good for your heart. You'll need all the strength you can get for the transplant."
My hand tightened around the spoon. So that's all he cared about, my heart, not me., I forced myself to finish the soup, every mouthful like sand in my mouth, and then fled to my room.
We'd always slept in separate rooms. He said he was a light sleeper, but I knew the truth.
He just didn't want to be near me. For seven long years, I'd slept in that guest room, hoping for a shred of his love.
The next day, I was about to go out, to escape this suffocating house for a little while. Just then, a figure emerged from the shadows.
It was my father, looking haggard and worn, his werewolf aura still strong but tinged with worry. He was a respected elder in the pack, but to me, he was just the man who had cast me out.
He strode towards me, his steps heavy. "Come with me to the hospital,".
I didn't move.
This was the man who had disowned me, who had believed Stella's lies over my truth. In their eyes, Stella was the perfect werewolf daughter, obedient and kind - hearted, while I was the troublemaker.
When Stella had accused me of stealing a precious artifact from the pack's sacred den, my pleas of innocence fell on deaf ears. And when she'd set me up to be caught in a compromising position with a rival pack member, ruining my reputation, my parents had never once doubted her.
My father had declared, "I have only one daughter, and that's Stella." The whole pack had laughed at me.
Now, here he was again. "Stella's condition has worsened. You're going to donate blood to her," he said, as if I owed her something.
I looked at him, my eyes filled with anger and hurt. "Why should I?" I said, my voice shaking. "She's ruined my life. You all chose her over me. Why should I save her now?"