Chapter 234: The Shop
Chapter 234 of "Mated To The Crippled Alpha" introduces the scene: The Hale residence didnât have the equipment to handle a possible spinal injury. With Vickyâs... Keep going!
The Hale residence didnât have the equipment to handle a possible spinal injury. With Vickyâs cries echoing through the house and everyone running in circles, they rushed her into the car and sent her straight to the hospital.When the commotion finally thinned out, Julian looked at me for a long moment, like he was trying to read the truth off my face.
"Did you do that on purpose?" he asked quietly.
I paused, choosing my words carefully. "I wonât pretend I didnât want her to fall," I admitted. "But I didnât push her. I didnât even touch her. It was a thought an ugly one and then she slipped."
I exhaled through my nose, my chest still tight from everything that had happened. "Maybe itâs for the best. If sheâs hurt badly enough, she wonât have the strength to stir trouble here anymore."
After Silas... I couldnât afford to leave Vicky untouched. Not when she was this dangerous. Not when she could still smile and cry and manipulate and possibly be tied to everything that had destroyed us.
Maybe fate stepped in before I did.
By the time evening settled, Camilla was still under house arrest, and Vicky was already halfway to the hospital. The Hale house felt colder than usual, like grief had seeped into the walls and refused to leave.
Then my phone rang.
Lewis.
The moment I saw his name, my heart jumped so hard it hurt. My fingers tightened around the phone as if I was afraid it would slip out of my hand.
"Elena," he said, low and steady, "do you want to come to the shop?"
Just hearing those words made my skin go cold. My throat tightened, and a chill ran down my spine, sharp and familiar.
"Yes," I breathed, my voice shaking. "Iâm on my way."
"Be careful on the road," he said immediately. "Donât rush. Iâll be waiting for you."
I ended the call fast, like keeping it longer would make my nerves snap.
It was time.
Lewis had gone down to the basement. He wouldnât have called unless everything was secured. That was how he moved quiet, controlled, always making sure the ground was solid before he asked me to step.
Julian had overheard enough. He spoke up before I could turn away.
"Iâll drive you."
Now Julian was finally aligned with us another piece moved into position on this chessboard. He wanted the truth just as badly as I did.
But I wasnât taking chances.
I brought a bodyguard with us anyway.
The car felt too small for the tension inside me. I sat in the passenger seat, hands folded tightly in my lap, staring out at the dark road as if it might suddenly change and lead me somewhere else.
If the riverbank was where I bled...
Then the shop was where I broke.
Silas had stabbed me. At first, Iâd only been losing blood. I wasnât dead yet. I was still conscious enough to feel the cold, still aware enough to think, Someone will come. Someone will save me.
Then they dragged me into the basement.
After that, time stopped being normal. It became fear, shadows, pain, and waiting. Waiting for the moment it ended either with rescue or with my body going cold.
My mind kept drifting back to the stone room, to the heaviness in the air, to the feeling of being trapped with no voice that mattered.
"Elena," Julian said, watching my face from the side. "Donât worry."
His voice softened. "No matter what happens, Iâll be with you."
I almost laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was too late for those words.
I opened my mouth to tell him exactly that, but Julian suddenly started coughing hard, rough coughs that bent him forward over the steering wheel.
"Are you okay?" I asked quickly, handing him napkins. "Do you want to stop? I can drive."
He forced a weak smile, breath shaky. "Iâm fine... Iâm just glad you still care."
I shut that down immediately, my voice turning sharp to cut off the tenderness before it grew roots. "Donât misunderstand me. Iâm not worried about you. Iâm worried youâll lose control of the car."
His smile faded.
He wiped his mouth again, and my eyes caught it red on the tissue.
Blood.
My stomach clenched. His condition had gotten worse. He wasnât just sick. He was falling apart.
Julian stared ahead, like he couldnât bear to look at me directly. His voice came out softer, almost lost in memory. "You used to care about me. Every time the weather changed, youâd make me syrup. When I had a fever, you stayed up all night. You made soup... you "
"Julian." I cut him off. I refused to let him drag me into nostalgia like it was a rope around my throat. "Thatâs over."
My words were flat, but they didnât feel empty. They felt final.
"If youâre trying to make me pity you," I continued, "trying to make me care because youâre letting your health rot, then youâre wasting your time."
When you love someone, you donât have to be told to care. A simple cough used to make my chest tighten with worry.
But now?
Now I didnât love him anymore.
"You used to be my worry," I said, voice steady, cold. "I watched what you ate. I stopped you from drinking when your stomach was bad. Back then, I loved you. Thatâs why I did it."
I turned my head slightly, eyes fixed forward. "But I donât love you anymore. If you want to destroy yourself, fine. Go ahead."
Julianâs hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles looked pale. His voice cracked when he asked, "If I died in front of you... would you even look at me?"
"No."
The word landed like a slap, even to me.
Something inside him broke. I felt it in the silence that followed.
Outside, fireworks began to light up the sky bright bursts against the darkness. A festival must have been approaching. The colors reflected faintly on the windshield.
I stared at them, and my voice lowered, softer but no less sharp.
"Julian... when you ran away from the wedding, I wanted revenge. I wanted to hurt you and Camilla the way you hurt me. You ruined my life."
My throat tightened, but I kept going. "But when I was stabbed by the river, bleeding out with my phone in my hand, the last person I called wasnât the police."
I swallowed. "It was you."
Julianâs breathing turned uneven.
"I knew you were with Camilla," I said. "I shouldâve called 911. I shouldâve fought harder. But deep down, I felt it I was done."
My eyes stayed on the fireworks. "If that was going to be my last call, I wanted it to be to you."
"Elena..." His voice trembled like he was afraid to speak louder, afraid heâd shatter.
"If you had shown even a little care on that phone call," I continued, "maybe I wouldnât have died with so much bitterness inside me."
I exhaled slowly. "In my last moments, I saw fireworks. After I came back... the sound of them terrified me for a long time."
I didnât know if Iâd been scared of dying, or if the real pain was your betrayal.
I died, but my soul couldnât leave you.
I hated you, but I still loved you.
That was the most humiliating truth of all.
"There was a time I couldnât pull away," I said, quieter now. "Even after death, I had to watch you your indifference, your coldness. I watched you choose her."
My jaw tightened. "And then I realized something. I didnât truly give up on you when I died."
I glanced at him. "I gave up when I became a spirit."
When you found out Camilla was pregnant, you believed her. You stopped looking for me. That was the moment something clicked inside me. I finally understood I could step away.
I could let go of our history.
The hate.
The love.
Everything.
"Thatâs when I could finally step into Rileyâs life," I finished. "Julian, I donât love you anymore."
The calmness in my voice hurt him more than shouting ever could. Tears slipped from his eyes and dropped onto his lap, one after the other, silent and heavy.
"Iâm sorry," he whispered. "Iâm so sorry."
"I donât need your apology," I said. "It doesnât change anything. You canât erase damage with words."
I looked at him fully this time, my gaze distant and unmoving. "What we had is over. Donât waste your time trying to fix it."
His shoulders sagged. "Okay," he said, voice shaking.
The car stopped outside the shop.
Under the streetlight, snow drifted down in slow, quiet flakes. Theo stood outside, holding an umbrella over Lewisâs head. The umbrella was weighed down by a thick layer of snow, like heâd been waiting for a long time.
And when I finally saw Lewisâs face, warmth spread through me so fast it almost made my eyes sting.
Before I opened the door, I spoke softly, almost like I was confessing it to myself.
"Iâm not afraid of fireworks anymore."
Then I turned to Julian. His eyes were swollen, his face wrecked.
I didnât soften.
I only said the truth.
"Because I know Lewis will never betray me."
And with that, I stepped out of the car and walked toward Lewis.
He extended his hand, steady and warm. His voice was gentle, careful with me. "Take it easy. Donât fall."