Harvested for My Adopted Sister's Heart

Harvested for My Adopted Sister's Heart

Fuzzy Melissa · Completed · 8.9k Words

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Introduction

Six months after our bonding ceremony, I was ambushed by rogue wolves while searching for rare herbs in the Black Forest.
Their poisoned claws shredded my abdomen—and with it, any chance of ever carrying pups.
But my mate held my hand and wept. My mother swore she'd save me. My father said everything would be fine.
How pathetic—
Right before they wheeled me into surgery, I heard them through a cracked door, calmly discussing how to harvest my heart for the adopted sister who'd been waiting six months.
Turns out the "accident" was a gift from my loving family of four.
Turns out the last six months of "coming home" was just them fattening up my heart for harvest.
What they don't know? The voice memo on my phone caught everything.
What they really don't know? Six months from now, I'm coming back—
With a Dark Moon Alliance badge. And a heart much colder than the one they stole.
Shh. Listen.
That stolen heart? It's starting to reject.

Chapter 1

Six months after our Mating Ceremony, I was ambushed by a pack of feral Rogues while tracking rare herbs in the Black Forest.

Their venom-laced claws didn't just shred my abdomen; they tore away my future, brutally stripping me of the ability to ever carry a pup.

As my consciousness faded in and out, I saw my mate, Herbert. His eyes were red-rimmed, his grip on my hand bone-crushing. He swore to the Moon Goddess that even if death were imminent, he would never abandon me.

My mother, Luna Eleanor—the Silver Moon Pack’s most renowned healer—vowed with equal fervor. She promised that as long as she drew breath, I would survive this nightmare.

In that fleeting moment, I felt a surge of gratitude. I believed the Moon Goddess had finally shown me mercy.

I rejoiced in the thought that, despite my years spent surviving as a Lone Wolf in the wilds, my return to the pack had been met with the unreserved love of my parents and my mate. My body felt as though it were being sawed in half, but my soul felt whole.

That was, until I was wheeled into the freezing corridor outside the pack’s surgical center.

The hushed whispers drifting through the crack of the operating room door hit me like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing every spark of hope.

"Eleanor, Lillian can finally be saved. Have you seen today's scans? Even though Teresa lived as a Rogue, her pre-attack medical report was flawless. She carries the purest Alpha bloodline. That heart of hers... it is pulsing with raw power. Transplanting it into Lillian is a match made in heaven!"

"Their blood types match, and I can suppress the rejection with medication given Lillian's frail state. If we don’t do this surgery now, Lillian won’t survive the winter!"

That was Herbert’s voice. Urgent. Bordering on fanatical.

Then came my father, Alpha Richard’s voice, heavy with cold authority:

"Herbert, since the Rogue leader has been... settled, make sure the rest is handled cleanly. We cannot let the pack know we intentionally left a gap in the border defenses to allow that ambush."

A pause. "I just pity you, son. You are the Alpha of the Black Rock Pack, yet you will spend the rest of your life shackled to a mate who is barren and now, stripped of her strong Wolf Heart."

A long, familiar sigh echoed from the room. It was a sound I once thought was born of love, but now, it chilled me to the bone.

"It doesn't matter, Alpha Richard. Even though Teresa is my fated mate, the one I truly love has always been Lillian. As long as Lillian can live a healthy life—even if it costs Teresa her heart... I am willing to care for that hollow, broken shell to protect Lillian’s future."

"Then do it, Eleanor," my father said, his voice void of emotion. "We went through the trouble of retrieving Teresa from the wilds. She has enjoyed the pack's protection for half a year; it is time she paid her debt."

Icy tears mixed with the blood trickling from my forehead, seeping into my eyes. The sting was blinding.

So that was it.

This so-called blood bond, this fated mate connection... if this was their definition of love, it was rot. I wanted no part of it.

Before the heavy dose of anesthesia stole my last ounce of resistance, I watched in despair as my mother snapped on her sterile gloves. She raised the silver scalpel, positioning it directly over my chest.

On the adjacent operating table lay the girl they had cherished like a jewel while I fought for scraps in the wild—my adopted sister, Lillian.

"Lillian, Momma kept her promise. Sleep now, baby. When you wake up, you won’t need machines to keep your blood pumping. This powerful heart will be yours."

I plummeted into darkness, accompanied by the phantom pain of my chest being cracked open.


When I woke again, the powerful, rhythmic thrumming of my Alpha heart was gone.

In its place was something weak, sluggish, and foreign. It felt like a piece of rotting meat had been forcefully shoved into my chest cavity.

Every beat was a struggle, tearing at my insides. It was a rejection from the depths of my bloodline, a screaming protest from my very soul. The pain was numbing, radiating to my scalp.

I tried to take a deep breath, but it felt as though invisible hands were smothering me.

Just as I thought I was about to die of suffocation in that hospital bed, a dozen monitors in the room exploded into a symphony of red lights and piercing alarms.

A team of medical assistants in white rushed in, panic on their faces.

Trailing behind them were my parents and Herbert.

"Don't move! Let me!"

Mom shoved an assistant aside, her face a mask of frantic concern. She placed her hands over my chest, her palms glowing with the soft light unique to high-level healers. It was a warmth I used to crave; now, it felt like a branding iron.

She was undeniably the pack's best expert. Under her skilled manipulation, the heavy, dead air trapped in my chest was finally expelled.

Although every breath still brought a stabbing, tearing pain, the immediate threat of suffocation receded.

"I'm so sorry, Teresa. It’s all Mom’s fault... I never should have let you go to the Black Forest for those Moon Herbs..."

Herbert rushed forward, grabbing my hand, his face a mask of deep affection.

"Teresa, you scared me to death! Eleanor said the Rogue's poison claws had corroded your heart during surgery. We had to do a transplant to save your life... but don't worry. No matter what you become, I will never give up on you."

Herbert’s hot tears landed on my palm.

All I felt was a bone-deep coldness.

Fighting the urge to vomit, I looked at the three people gathered around my bed—my closest family—and used every ounce of my remaining strength to pull my hand away.

I forced a weak, paper-thin smile. "It's okay. Lillian has always been in poor health. Since I’m already ruined as a sister... passing some good luck to her is the least I can do."

"Lillian is recovering quickly!"

Dad blurted it out almost reflexively, plunging the room into a sudden, suffocating silence.

Mom quickly tried to smooth things over, pulling me into a hug. "It was the Moon Goddess’s blessing. Just as we were operating on you, a matching donor was found for Lillian. Both of my daughters are going to be fine."

"Oh? I get 'attacked' and lose my heart, and at that exact moment, Lillian finds a perfect donor? Fate certainly has a twisted sense of humor."

I leaned into my mother’s embrace, whispering the words lightly.

Instantly, I felt her body stiffen against mine.

"Lillian, she—"

"I’m kidding, Mom. I’m happy for her," I interrupted, lowering my eyelids to hide the glacial hatred freezing over my gaze.

The tension in the room evaporated. They exhaled.

"Teresa, there are still some defense matters regarding those Rogues that the pack needs to handle. You rest for a while," Dad said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Go ahead. Go be with Lillian. She must be in pain after her surgery," I whispered.

The smile froze on Richard’s face. He opened his mouth, perhaps to assert his Alpha authority, but a sharp glance from Eleanor silenced him. Together, they turned and left the ward.

Herbert’s eyes were glued to their retreating backs. He shifted his weight, restless. His heart was clearly already in the other room.

I turned my head, fixing him with a faint, ghostly smile.

"You go too, Herbert. Go... take good care of my newly reborn sister for me."

Almost before I finished the sentence, Herbert dropped a hasty, "Rest well, I’ll see you later," and vanished out the door without a backward glance.

Watching their retreating figures, I swallowed the metallic taste of blood and bitterness rising in my throat. With trembling fingers, I reached under my pillow and pulled out my phone.

I dialed a number from across the ocean.

"The Dark Moon Alliance"—the supreme power that stood above all tribal laws.

"I accept the offer. I want in," I said, my voice raspy and broken.

"Are you certain? Once you join, you must sign the Blood Oath. No contact with your family for ten years. You cannot step foot on this territory. We will wipe away every trace of your past existence." The voice on the other end was low, laced with dangerous temptation.

"I am certain."

The other party agreed readily. Finally, a sense of calm washed over me.

I hung up. As my gaze swept across the screen, my heart skipped a beat.

The high-sensitivity voice recorder—which I had turned on to mark herb trail coordinates—had been running in the background throughout the entire ordeal.

My fingers trembled as I pressed play.

Pure, unadulterated evil poured from the speaker: the conspiracy to breach the borders, the order to harvest my heart while I was still alive, the wet slice of my mother’s scalpel, and Herbert’s twisted confession of love to another woman.

Every word was a defining, bloody nail in their coffin.

I gripped the phone until my knuckles turned white, a cruel, cold arc curving onto my lips.

This really was... the Moon Goddess’s blessing.

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