I Returned the Heart, but the Wolf King Gave Me His Chapter 07

I Returned the Heart, but the Wolf King Gave Me His Chapter 07

Alpha Michael’s pov

“Alpha Michael! My guy brought the wrong bike!”

“That mountain bike-it doesn’t have brake pads!”

The voice of my friend-the Alpha King-suddenly blared through the bike’s speaker system.

I went rigid. In the distance, I could see the highway getting closer. And an eighteen-wheeler,

bearing down.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Harder than it had in years.

I yanked the emergency brake override.

Nothing.

The mountain bike didn’t slow.

One minute later, it plowed head-on into the truck.

The sound-the screech and crunch of metal folding into metal-echoed all the way up the

mountain.

My mind went white. I turned, not believing what I’d just heard.

“What did you say?!”

“No brake pads?”

“What the fuck do you mean there were no brake pads?!”

I roared at them, fear strangling my voice.

The Alpha Kings stood frozen, faces heavy with the sudden gravity of knowing they had gone too

far.

Then Mary stepped toward me. There was something different in her eyes-something the others

didn’t have.

“Alpha Michael, don’t be angry.”

“It was just an accident. Just like that Coldcreek Pack pileup back then. Accidents happen.”

“You hated Patricia Moore anyway. Now she’s dead. Perfect timing to cut out Elizabeth’s heart-”

“Shut your mouth!”

I cut her off, fury blazing through me.

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“Patricia Moore is dead?”

“She’s not dead!”

My voice dropped, cold and sharp.

“Mary. Remember your place.”

“That bond proposal on the cruise ship a few days ago? That was an act. A show. Don’t push your luck.”

I yanked out my phone and dialed Patricia Moore’s number.

But as I hit the button, I noticed Patricia Moore’s phone lying on the ground at my

feet.

I bent down and picked it up. The pack doctor’s voice was still coming through the speaker,

panicked.

“Patricia Moore? Are you alright?”

“Is the transplanted artificial heart malfunctioning?”

“Do you need me to send an ambulance?”

My hand tightened around the phone.

My heart lurched.

“What did you just say?”

“Artificial heart?”

“Patricia Moore was using Elizabeth’s heart!”

My voice shook.

On the other end of the line, the pack doctor went silent for a few seconds. Then

“Are you Patricia Moore’s mate?”

“She did undergo a heart removal surgery. Three days ago.”

“She even took the heart with her today. Said she was going to return it.”

“If you really are her mate… please, be good to her.”

“A transplanted artificial heart only has a one-year lifespan.”

The pack doctor’s voice kept coming through the speaker.

I stumbled backward and fell.

Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed the ice pack from the ground.

I brushed the dirt from its surface as gently as I could, then raced to my car.

“Patricia Moore, you can’t be dead.”

“I won’t let you be dead!”

The words fell from my lips, over and over. I pushed the car as fast as it would go.

When I reached the road at the foot of the mountain, I went still.

People crowded the highway. Several cars had crashed together, twisted into each other.

It looked exactly like that pileup. The one from all those years ago.

I threw myself out of the car and ran toward the wreckage.

My mind kept replaying the phone call I got that night.

The pack doctor’s voice-fawning, terrified-telling me that the Alpha bloodline could not be compromised. That he had cut out the heart of another woman who was in the accident and used it

to revive Elizabeth.

I should have been relieved. I wasn’t.

Because hours earlier, Elizabeth had told me she was shopping with Patricia Moore.

I rushed to the hospital expecting to find Patricia Moore’s body.

But the pack doctor had confused the two.

In that moment, a bolt of wild, impossible relief shot through me.

Then I saw Elizabeth’s body.

And I shattered.

For three days and three nights after that, I tore myself apart.

I didn’t eat. Didn’t drink. Buried myself in pack work until my body gave out.

When I woke up in Wolf Pack Hospital, I saw Patricia Moore-consumed by the same guilt, the same grief.

And I twisted my love for her into hatred.

For three years, I lived inside that twisted, festering hatred.

Now-

Now I would give anything to take it all back.

“Patricia Moore… I was wrong…”

I shoved through the crowd and saw the mountain bike. Completely demolished.

My vision went red.