(Olivia’s POV)


    Beeping. Rhythmic and persistent.


    That was the first thing I became aware of as consciousness slowly returned. The second was pain–a deep, throbbing ache in my chest that seemed to pulse with each heartbeat.


    My eyelids felt impossibly heavy as I struggled to open them. Bright light assaulted my vision, making me wince.


    “She’s waking up,” a familiar voice said. Matthew?


    I tried to speak, but my throat was parched, raw. A gentle hand slipped behind my head, lifting it slightly as a straw touched my lips. <fn852c> This content belongs to F?ndNovel</fn852c>


    “Small sips,” Matthew instructed, his voice thick with emotion.


    The cool water was heaven against my dry throat. As my vision cleared, I saw Matthew’s face hovering above mine, his eyes rimmed with red.


    “How long?” I managed to croak.


    “A month,” he replied, brushing hair from my forehead. “You’ve been unconscious for a


    month.”


    A month? Thest thing I remembered was the warehouse… ra… Leo…


    “Leo!” I gasped, trying to sit up. Pain exploded in my chest, and I fell back with a cry.


    “He’s fine,” Matthew assured me, his hand gently restraining my shoulder. “He’s safe. Aurora


    too.”


    Relief flooded through me, but confusion quickly followed. I should be dead. ra had shot me with a silver bullet directly into my heart.


    “How am I alive?” I whispered.


    Matthew’s expression tightened. He looked away, jaw clenched.


    “I think that’s my cue,” came another voice from the doorway.


    I turned my head to see Ethan standing there.


    “What happened?” I asked, looking between them.


    Ethan approached my bedside, checking the monitors before meeting my gaze.


    +25 Points


    “You needed a heart transnt,” he said simply. “The silver bullet destroyed yours beyond repair.”


    A heart transnt? But werewolf organ transnts were notoriously difficult. The recipient’s body would reject any heart not perfectly matched.


    “Who?” I whispered, though something deep inside me already knew the answer.


    “Theodore,” Ethan confirmed, his voice gentle. “His final act was to give <i>you </i>his heart.”


    The room seemed to spin around me. Theodore’s heart? Theodore’s heart was beating in my


    chest right now?


    “That’s impossible,” I whispered. “Thepatibility”


    “An Alpha heart carries unique properties,” Ethan exined. “Especially when freely given. Theodore knew this. He called me himself, with his dying breath.”


    Theodore is dead! This sentence struck my heart, and tears flowed uncontrobly down my cheeks. He had done so many wrong things and brought me endless suffering, yet in the end, he sacrificed his life for me.


    “He begged me to perform the surgery,” Ethan continued. “Said it was the only way to atone. The Alpha heart carries not just life force but residual psychic energy. It ensuredpatibility.”


    I ced my hand over my chest–over Theodore’s heart–and felt its strong, steady beat. A sob escaped me.


    “I can feel him,” I whispered. “It’s like… he’s still here.”


    Matthew’s expression darkened, pain shing across his features before he masked it. I reached for his hand, squeezing it weakly.


    “I need some time,” I told Ethan, my eyes never leaving Matthew’s face.


    My brother nodded, understanding. “I’ll check on youter.”


    When the door closed behind him, I tugged Matthew closer.


    “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This must be so hard for you.”


    He shook his head, bringing my hand to his lips. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”


    But I could see the conflict in his eyes–gratitude that I survived, jealousy that his rival would forever be a part of me.


    “Where is he buried?” I asked softly.


    “In the Redgrave family plot,” Matthew answered. “I… I made sure he received full honors. For what he did for you. For Leo.”


    Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. “And Leo? How is he handling this?”


    Matthew’s expression softened. “He’s been brave. Confused, grieving, but… there’s pride too. Pride that his father saved his mother.”


    The door opened again, and my heart leapt at the sight of my son standing there, his eyes wide and uncertain.


    “Mom?” he whispered.


    “Leo,” I breathed, opening my arms despite the pain.


    He rushed to me, burying his face against my shoulder as he sobbed. I held him close, my own tears falling into his hair.


    “Mom, I’m sorry! I’ve done so many wrong things, yet you stood in front of me without hesitation.” I stroked his hair, “Silly child, no matter what, you are my son.”


    “Dad saved you,” he mumbled against my hospital gown. “He pushed ra away and took the bullet.”


    “I know, sweetheart,” I whispered, stroking his hair. “Your father loved us very much.”


    <i>Leo </i>pulled <i>back</i>, his <i>young </i>face solemn. “He told me to be strong. For you and Aurora.”


    <i>My </i>heart–<i>Theodore’s </i>heart–ached at his words. “And you have been. So strong.”


    <i>“</i><i>Can </i>I… can I listen?” <i>Leo </i>asked hesitantly, ncing at my chest.


    Understanding his <i>need</i>, I nodded. Leo carefullyid his head against my chest, listening to his father’s heart beating within me.


    “It sounds like him,” he whispered in wonder. “Strong.”


    Matthew watched us, his expression aplex mixture of love and pain. I reached for <i>him</i>, pulling him into our embrace.


    “We’ll get through this,” I promised. “Together.”


    Months passed as I learned to live with Theodore’s heart and the emotional echoes it carried. Sometimes, in quiet moments, I would feel shes of his emotions–his regret, his love, his hope for Leo’s future.


    Matthew struggled more than he admitted. I would catch him watching me sometimes, a shadow crossing his face when I unconsciously ced my hand over


    heart.


    my


    “I’m jealous of a dead man,” he confessed one night during a therapy session. “How pathetic is that?”


    Dr. Alistair, our counselor, shook his head. “It’s not pathetic, <i>Your </i>Majesty. It’s human.” “He’s literally a part of her now,” Matthew continued, his voice raw. “A part I can never touch


    or remove.”


    I reached for his hand. “But my love for you is my own. Completely my own.”


    Our therapist nodded. “The heart is just an organ, Your Majesty. A powerful symbol, yes, but Olivia’s feelings, her soul–those belong to you.”


    Slowly, painfully, we worked through it together. Matthew’s jealousy faded as he came to see Theodore’s heart not as a rival’s im, but as a gift that allowed me to remain by his side.


    The most unexpected development was the change in my own abilities. Theodore’s Alpha energy had enhanced my strength, my senses, my healing.


    “It’s unprecedented,” Ethan exined after examining me. “The Alpha heart has integrated <ipletely</i>, sharing its power with you.”


    I <i>used </i>this <i>newfound </i>strength to advocate for reform in werewolf medicalws. Organ <i>donation </i>had <i>been </i>taboo for centuries, but Theodore’s sacrifice opened new possibilities.


    “<i>My </i><i>mate </i><i>gave </i>his heart so I could live,” I told the Council of Alphas. “How many lives could be saved if we embraced this knowledge instead of fearing it?”


    As the seasons changed, so did we, Matthew’s love deepened as we faced our challenges <i>together</i>. Leo grew stronger, carrying both his father’s legacy and Matthew’s guidance. Aurora flourished, too young <i>to </i>understand theplexity of our family but surrounded by love.


    <i>And </i>I learned <i>to </i>view Theodore’s heart not as a burden, but as a gift that allowed me to live and love fully.


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