Chapter 228: Lose it
Here is Chapter 228 of "Mated To The Crippled Alpha": Julian had always battled depression, and lately heâd been treating his own recovery like it... Donât miss it!
Julian had always battled depression, and lately heâd been treating his own recovery like it didnât matter. After everything that happened today, I was scared he would finally let go of the little willpower he had left.It was strange, watching it all unfold. The people who hurt me were now walking straight into the kind of pain they once laughed off when it belonged to me.
The Morrigans were falling apart. Even the ones still breathing looked like theyâd been crushed from the inside. Julian wasnât any different. The illness was already eating at him, and now despair was finishing the job.
It felt like some invisible hand had lowered them into suffering slowly enough to keep them alive, but not enough to give them peace.
And I wonât lie... they brought it on themselves.
Julian stared at me with dull, lifeless eyes, like he was waiting for one sentence to save him. In that moment, I realized I might be the only "light" he thought he had left.
He wanted forgiveness.
He wanted me to say it was over.
But I couldnât.
I wasnât the one who created this nightmare between us. The pain he gave me was real. The damage was real. And Joyce... Joyce was gone.
There was blood between us now. A line that couldnât be erased with soft words.
So when he looked at me like he was begging, I didnât comfort him. I forced myself to stay cold and logical.
"Julian, you have to stay alive," I said quietly. "If you really are Oliverâs son, exposing your identity could draw him out. Thatâs the only lead we have."
His mouth twitched like heâd been slapped. "So to you... Iâm just a tool, right? A way to reach him."
"Yes."
The word landed hard.
He gave a bitter laugh, eyes shining with pain. "Youâre heartless. You canât even lie to me anymore."
"Weâre not friends," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Iâm not responsible for your feelings. Act like a man, Julian. Stop drowning in things that wonât change the truth. Donât you want answers? After everything thatâs been done to us, donât you want to know whoâs been pulling the strings?"
If Oliver was truly his father, I doubted heâd let Julian die quietly. Not before he got what he wanted.
I left him there with his smoke and his silence.
Life is fragile. Whether he held on or gave up... that choice was still his.
Silas had been moved into his room. By the time I got there, Camilla looked like sheâd cried herself empty. Her eyes were swollen, her face blotched with rage and grief.
The moment she saw me, her expression snapped into something sharp.
"Riley," she hissed. "You did this to him, didnât you?"
Silas lay on the bed, his body tense like he was fighting invisible restraints. His emotions were all over the place. With his tongue gone, he could only make broken sounds short, frantic noises that scratched at the air.
I didnât respond. I just walked closer.
"Ms. Morrigans," I said evenly, "youâre really good at pushing blame. Did I ruin the Morrigans? Was it my fault you decided to play both sides until everything collapsed?"
Her breathing turned jagged. "You set this up. You manipulated everything. You drove him to this!"
Then her voice rose, cracking with fury. "Riley, you had no right to hurt him! We wonât let this go. Youâre the next one to die! How could you do this to him?"
"Ah " Silas made a muffled sound, like he was trying to stop her, like he was begging her not to say more.
Before the tension could snap, the door opened.
Adam stepped in, and Sheila followed right behind him.
The second Adam saw Silas, something softened in his face guilt, grief, maybe both. He walked closer like he was afraid the sight would disappear if he blinked.
"My boy..." he murmured. "Youâve been through too much."
Silas stared back at him with empty eyes. No recognition. No warmth. Just a distant, hollow look, like Adam was a stranger passing by.
Adam turned to Camilla, trying to steady her with his voice. "Camilla, I watched you grow up. I donât believe youâre a bad person. You know something. Thereâs no one else here tell me. I just want to understand how my son ended up like this."
Camilla shook her head, tears falling again. "Adam, I donât know. I swear I donât."
Then Adam looked at me, desperate now. "Riley... you and Lewis must have found something. Please. Weâre family. Tell me what you know."
I didnât flinch. "Weâve told you everything. Silasâs identity was wiped. His face is ruined. There are no fingerprints. If it wasnât for the DNA test, we wouldnât have known anything. Someone erased his life on purpose."
My eyes flicked to Silas. "And if he was willing to talk, he wouldnât have bitten off his own tongue."
Sheila stepped forward, voice gentle like she was trying to lower the temperature in the room. "Itâs horrible, but medical technology is advanced. Our team will do everything they can. Donât worry too much."
Adamâs shoulders sagged. "I hope so. But his face..."
The damage was severe. Even if doctors could help, he would never look the same again.
Theo came in and firmly said Silas needed rest. He guided everyone out, and Camilla was placed under house arrest again.
We were waiting watching because if someone was pulling strings, they would reach for Camilla soon.
But even with all our preparation... we still werenât ready for what happened next.
The next morning, a scream tore through the Hale residence.
Theo pounded on our door. "Sir, maâam something happened!"
I jolted awake in Lewisâs arms, a cold unease sliding down my spine. Lewis sat up immediately.
"What is it?" I asked.
Theoâs face looked gray. "Silas is dead."
For a second, I didnât understand the words.
Lewisâs voice came out sharp. "Dead? He was right here. Under our roof. He couldnât even take care of himself how did this happen?"
Theo swallowed. "This morning his condition worsened. He started vomiting blood. The medical team rushed in, but it was too late. He died."
We ran.
Adam stood frozen at the door like his body had turned to stone. Camilla was already inside, frantic, barefoot, shaking so badly she could hardly stay upright.
She collapsed beside Silas, sobbing like her lungs were tearing.
"Silas... donât do this to me," she cried. "You promised youâd stay with me! Iâm still here how could you leave me?"
She clutched his face, kissed his cold skin, rocking like denial could bring him back.
"Open your eyes," she begged. "Please... just open your eyes."
Then she choked out, "What about our baby? What am I supposed to do now?"
Thatâs when I saw it.
Blood on her cotton sleep pants spreading slowly, dark and unstoppable.
My stomach dropped.
"Sheâs going to miscarry," I said, my voice turning hard with urgency. "Get the doctor. Now."
Camilla didnât even seem to notice the blood beneath her. She kept stroking Silasâs face, whispering to him like he could still hear her.
"Please donât sleep... please..."
I stood there, staring at the stillness of his body, feeling something twist inside my chest.
Silas was gone.
Just like that.
And no matter how many times I tried to force logic into my mind, one question kept rising anyway
How could someone disappear so fast when we had him right here under our noses?