The Wrong Heart Novels & Stories

At the center of the chamber… Suspended in midair by glowing roots and veined magic… Was a heart. Not a metaphor. Not an illusion. No, it was a literal, beating heart. Golden. But split. The right side of it shimmered like pure sunlight, clean and soft and healing. The left side… twisted. Veins blackened with rot. A slow corruption pulsing through it like tar in honey. The corruption bled upward along the roots holding it in place, darkening the magic that kept it suspended.

I tell her I will be done soon. I dry my hands. I walk into the OR. The team is ready. The lights are bright. Lily is on the table, her chest open, her heart exposed. It is small, no larger than my fist, but it is fighting. The left ventricle strains, the walls thick, the rhythm uneven. I look at the narrowing. It is worse than the scans showed. The aorta is pinched to a thread. The blood struggles to pass. The heart is working twice as hard as it should.

He simply smiled, a look of pure, unadulterated malice. "Some people become very fragile when they stand in the way of the wrong person, Damien," he murmured. "The heart is a delicate organ. A small stressor, a misplaced medication, a moment of extreme pressure... and it simply gives out. It's a tragedy, of course. But tragedies often create opportunities for those with the strength to seize them."

He finally put the book down on the side. "There was an error at the hospital," he whispered. "A file was mixed up and a nurse gave her an incorrect medication. She suffered cardiac arrest but they said they said they had it under control. But days went by and next, they told me it was just her body exhausting itself but it didn't make sense."

"That's why I came over here. I know getting into it with him isn't a good idea, and he said he was wrong, but I'm so pissed." "And that's okay." Dixie wanted to go to him, to hug him, but not with an audience. "Garth was wrong to keep this from you guys. He was wrong to not listen to his doctors." "But we aren't going to make him better by getting into a big blow up?" Scarlett twisted to face her. "Did you tell her what the doc said?" Benjamin asked. Scarlett shook her head. "Fuck." He scrubbed a hand over his face then met Dixie's gaze. "This doc thinks he's got AFib that, combined with something called broken-heart syndrome made it appear he had a heart attack."

“Go slow dear heart, do not race.. At Least not on the wrong track, You will lose it in the end, come back! All Hearts!!

“What kind of mistake?” Her fingers moved through the air like she was still stirring a pot... “There are roots that draw and roots that anchor... similar, but different. Love taken by force responds to a wrong accent; it flips... it binds the wrong current. I misread a sign... a single misplucked root... and what I sent to change a heart instead tethered the thread to the soul already nearest. It did not make him love you... it made him cleave deeper to the one he already loved.”

It's falling spontaneously. Why the pain? Why is it painful? I just want to feel it! I just want to give my heart away until I feel nothing. I just found myself crying. I loved someone who wasn't meant for me. I once gave my heart away. But why to the wrong person? If my love is wrong? Why am I here? Why do I feel this way? Is my heart really wrong? "You're crying because you're hurt! You still love him? You can't you forget him? Can't you bear him?"

As Chris was being led past me, he lowered his voice and said softly, "I'm sorry, Wendy. I know how wrong I've been now. If we get through this… Can we start over?" I let out a snort. I watched a flicker of hope grow in his eyes before I snuffed it right out, saying icily. "Sorry. I don't have a habit of picking up other people's trash." His expression froze. I continued, "And besides, you're definitely going to prison." I didn't know whether he had complete faith that he could buy his way out of this with money and his connections, and I didn't care. Reality would shatter his fantasies for me.

She accepted the wine cup, her voice soft to the point of eeriness. "You're right. This is the happiest night of our lives. "This is Midnight Velvet, a vintage wine long treasured by the royal family. You should have another glass or two. It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful night." Inside, I could not help but sneer. In my previous life, I had been fooled by that same harmless, gentle act. Back then, I truly believed she was willing to marry me. What I had not known was that she had already planned everything. Once I was drunk enough to lose consciousness, she intended to lure me to the royal fountain in the back garden and stage my death as an accidental drunken fall.