Chapter 182: The Mask
Chapter 182 of "Mated To The Crippled Alpha" starts revealing surprises: The next day was Christmas.A day meant for packs to gather, for elders to sit... Read on!
The next day was Christmas.A day meant for packs to gather, for elders to sit at the head of the table, for mates to stand side by side and show unity.
That evening, I was supposed to return to the Hale estate for dinner. But early in the morning, my mother called and asked me to visit the Morrigans at noon.
News of the car accident had already spread through every circle. Nothing stays hidden for long among powerful packs.
As Lewisâs chosen mate, representing the Hale name, I went to pay them a visit.
When I arrived, most of the Morrigans looked fine physically. No visible injuries. No broken limbs.
But Vivian...
Her scent was wrong.
Unstable. Sharp. Fear clinging to her like smoke.
One tragedy after another had crushed her spirit. Nolanâs death. The accident. The near brush with death. Her mind had cracked under the weight.
When I pushed open the door, a nurse was chasing her with a syringe.
Vivian was standing barefoot on the hospital bed, her hair disheveled, eyes wide and wild. She kept scanning the room as if enemies were hiding in every corner.
"Mrs. Morrigan, please come down."
"Honey, itâs safe here. No one will hurt you."
The moment she saw me, she jumped off the bed and rushed forward. She grabbed my hand so tightly her nails dug into my skin.
"Elena!" she whispered urgently. "We have to leave. There are ghosts here. Theyâre watching us!"
Her eyes were unfocused. Fractured.
I understood immediately.
Her mind had slipped.
"Mr. Morrigan," I asked calmly, "what happened? I heard the car only had a minor issue. Why is she like this?"
Malcom looked older than usual. The lines on his face seemed deeper.
"I apologize, Mrs. Hale," he said stiffly. "My wife is still shaken from the accident. She needs rest. And because you resemble our late daughter... she mistook you for her."
Late daughter.
The irony almost made me laugh.
"I see," I said softly.
I gently pried Vivianâs fingers loose and gestured toward Camilla, who stood quietly nearby.
"Mrs. Morrigan, youâre mistaken. Iâm not your daughter. She is."
The moment Vivianâs eyes landed on Camilla, her entire body recoiled.
It was instinctive.
Like prey recognizing a predator.
She scrambled behind me, clutching my coat.
"Elena, itâs her!" Vivian cried. "Sheâs the devil! Sheâs the one who tore this family apart! She made that call to get Nolan killed! And last nightâs accident it was her too!"
The room went still.
I almost smiled.
When Vivian was sane, she had danced in Camillaâs shadow, defending her at every turn.
Now that her mind had shattered, she finally saw clearly.
But what did that change?
No one believed her.
Just like they hadnât believed me.
"Mom," Camilla said softly, her voice smooth and steady. "Weâre family. How could I ever hurt you?"
Her expression was perfect. Concerned. Gentle. A good daughter.
Malcom snapped impatiently. "Enough nonsense! Mrs. Hale, please ignore her rambling."
"Of course," I replied with a faint smile.
But I tilted my head slightly.
"Still... I think Mrs. Morriganâs condition is quite serious. Mr. Morrigan, you should watch her closely."
Camilla stepped forward, her tone thoughtful.
"Dad, Mom isnât physically sick. Maybe we should consult a psychiatrist."
Malcom nodded slowly. "That might be best. She canât keep acting like this."
That was when it struck me.
Camilla didnât just want Vivian treated.
She wanted her labeled.
Declared unstable.
Once that happened, Vivianâs words would mean nothing.
A diagnosis would silence her.
And if Elena pushed harder...
She could have Vivian institutionalized.
Locked away.
Out of sight.
Out of the way.
I watched Camillaâs face carefully.
There was no fear there.
No guilt.
Only calculation.
Her mask was flawless.
But beneath it, I could almost feel the cold satisfaction rising from her.
What a cruel, calculating woman.
Camilla had no mercy. Not even for the pack that raised her.
Last nightâs car accident had failed, but I could feel it she wasnât finished. A failed strike only made predators more careful, not less dangerous.
If Vivian were declared unstable and locked away, the Morrigans pack would be left with only Malcom and the two brothers. Fewer voices. Fewer obstacles. Easier to control.
I was still turning this over in my mind when a knock came at the door.
Nelson stepped in.
The moment Malcom saw him, his composure cracked. "Captain Harris, is there progress on my daughterâs case?"
Before Nelson could answer, Vivian rushed forward and grabbed his arm.
"Captain Harris!" she cried. "Arrest her! Itâs her! Sheâs the killer!"
The room froze.
Not long ago, this same woman had defended Camilla like a lioness guarding her cub. Nelson had seen that with his own eyes.
Now she was pointing at her daughter with terror.
"Mrs. Morrigan," Nelson said carefully, "do you have any evidence?"
His voice was calm, but I could sense the tension in him. He had been circling this case for months, watching, waiting. His men had followed Camilla more than once, yet nothing solid had surfaced.
If Vivian had proof, it would change everything.
But before Vivian could speak, Camilla stepped forward smoothly.
"Captain Harris, please donât take her words seriously," she said with a gentle smile. "She hasnât rested properly since the accident. Sheâs still in shock. Sheâs not thinking clearly."
Her tone was soft. Concerned. The perfect daughter.
"By the way," she added lightly, "what brings you here today?"
Nelsonâs expression hardened.
"Iâm here about last nightâs accident," he said. "Our inspection shows the car was tampered with."
The air shifted.
Malcomâs face darkened immediately. "I knew it! I spend a fortune maintaining that car every year. It couldnât have failed like that. Captain Harris, you have to find who did this. My entire family was inside. If something had gone wrong, weâd all be dead!"
He wasnât shouting like Vivian.
But fear was there.
Raw. Real.
Nelson nodded once. "After leaving the hospital, you all went separate ways. Except for Camilla."
His gaze turned sharp.
"So during the accident, Ms. Morrigan was the only one not present?"
The question hung heavy in the room.
Camilla didnât flinch.
Her composure was impressive. Too impressive.
"Captain Harris," she replied evenly, "it almost sounds like youâre disappointed I wasnât in the car."
"Not disappointed," Nelson said as he stepped closer. "Just surprised at how Ms. Morriganâs luck always pulls her away from danger at the perfect moment."
Camillaâs expression softened with practiced concern.
"Itâs not something anyone would want," she said. "I was worried sick about my parents and brother."
Nelson closed the distance further. His presence carried weight, like an Alpha pressing forward without raising his voice.
"Ms. Morrigan," he said slowly, "are you aware that last night, on the same stretch of road where Nolan died, there was a major crash?"
Malcom stiffened. "What?"
"Yes," Nelson replied. "A three-car collision. Severe casualties. It happened about ten minutes after your accident."
The room went silent.
Malcomâs face drained of color.
"So youâre saying..." His voice trembled. "If we hadnât changed routes at the last minute... the ones who died might have been us?"
No one answered.
They didnât need to.
The truth settled over the room like a heavy fog.
I glanced at Camilla.
For just a second just one I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes.
Calculation.
And beneath it, something colder.
My instincts tightened inside me.
This wasnât over.
Not even close.