My Alpha Took My Kidney To Save His Cheating Ex Novel – The glass of milk Alpha Simon handed me tasted… off. There was a familiar bitterness lingering on my tongue—Sleeping pills? Panic surged through me. I tried to force myself to vomit, but it was too late. The heaviness hit me like a wave, flooding my limbs with leaden weight. My arms felt like they were sinking into the earth, and my legs stiffened until I couldn’t move an inch.
What was Alpha Simon planning to do to me? Terror gripped me. I tried to move, tried to summon my wolf—my anchor in every moment of fear. But she didn’t stir. Not even a twitch. My thoughts unraveled, slipping through my fingers like water. The world around me faded, swallowed by shadows. My body had betrayed me. And the darkness pulled me under. When I finally regained consciousness, I had no idea where I was. “Alpha Simon, are you really going through with the transplant? You’re giving Miss Moira’s kidney to Miss Yolanda?” That voice… Dr. Norman.
Simon’s private physician. I couldn’t lift my eyelids. My limbs twitched uncontrollably. But I could hear—every single word. I’d battled severe insomnia for years. Back then, I overdosed so many times that I’d built up a resistance to sedatives. I reached deep inside, desperately searching for my wolf. But there was nothing. Just emptiness.No answer. “I’ve already pumped her full of sedatives,” Simon said calmly.”She won’t wake up. Just do your job.” “Alpha, this is illegal,” Dr. Norman protested, voice unsteady. “This could kill her—I can’t—” “Enough,” Simon snapped.
His tone was ice, slicing through the air like a blade. “You’re not paid to have a conscience.I’ll take care of everything. You just do your job.”” I felt hands brushing over my skin, cool metal instruments clinking nearby. Then a pause. A shift in the room’s energy. Simon’s voice, impatient: “Give me that.” Pain exploded through my side as the scalpel cut deep. A raw, burning slash of agony that ripped the breath from my lungs. “Ugh…” The sound that escaped me was barely a whisper, but the pain—it was all-consuming. My fingers twitched, clutching the sheets.
My body trembled, but no one noticed. No one cared. Simon handed the scalpel back. “Finish it,” he ordered. I wanted to scream. To shift. To fight. But I was locked inside myself, paralyzed—conscious, aware, trapped. I could hear my own blood dripping to the floor. I felt every pull, every slice, every damn second of it. But I couldn’t stop it. “Take the kidney to next door for transplant,” Simon said，”Now the timing is just right, Yolanda can make use of it.”