Chapter 259: Camilla is Back
Chapter 259 of "Mated To The Crippled Alpha" begins the action: Camillaâs sudden appearance unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.I leaned against Lewis and... Discover the next part!
Camillaâs sudden appearance unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.I leaned against Lewis and said quietly, "Iâve always felt Camillaâs cruelty toward Grandma was too extreme. No one acts like that without deep hatred. From the way she spoke tonight, it sounds like the Morrigans may have wronged her in the past."
Her anger didnât feel staged. It wasnât for show. She wasnât acting for sympathy. It came from somewhere real.
Lewis tightened his grip around my hand, his thumb brushing against my skin in slow circles. The contact steadied me.
"If theyâre targeting the Morrigans," he said calmly, "then we must make sure your identity remains hidden. You are not just anyone. Youâre my mate."
"I donât plan to reveal who I am," I replied. "But Camillaâs secret is already spreading. And with everything happening to the Hales, itâs time to confront the Morrigans. There are things we need answers to."
For years, the Morrigans had chosen Camilla over me. No matter what she did, they protected her. My feelings never mattered.
Now the truth was no longer buried.
If exposing Camilla brought justice for what Grandma and I endured, then I would do it.
After the chaos at the Hale pack, I quietly looked into the Morrigansâ situation. Malcom had recently undergone heart surgery. I didnât push them then. I told myself to wait.
But waiting had given us nothing.
Now it was time to go there in person.
Still, the most urgent matter was tonightâs operation. If our scouts could trace Camilla back to her base, everything would start making sense.
I sat beside Lewis, staring at the screen, waiting for the call.
He squeezed my hand gently. "Weâll get answers."
Right then, the phone rang again.
Lewis answered immediately. "Did you find anything?"
There was a pause.
"Sorry. They noticed us. Two cars blocked us near Copper Avenue. We lost them."
I wasnât surprised.
Camillaâs people were careful. Skilled. The streets there were nearly empty at night. Anyone tailing them would stand out.
Frustration rose in my chest, but I forced it down.
Lewis noticed the shift in my breathing. "Donât be upset," he said quietly. "We learned enough tonight. As long as Camilla is still in this city, she canât hide forever."
I nodded. "Okay."
But sleep never came.
The moment I closed my eyes, I saw Camilla kneeling at Silasâ grave. I heard her voice. Her grief. Her hatred.
The closer I felt to the truth, the more restless I became.
For years, I asked myself why she treated Grandma and me like enemies. Now I had a partial answer.
She lost her family.
But what if the Morrigans were involved?
I turned in bed again, unable to rest.
Lewis sensed it immediately. He pulled me closer, his arm firm around my waist. "Elena," he murmured, "whatever the Morrigans did in the past, you are not responsible. No one has the right to harm you."
"Iâm worried about Grandma," I whispered.
In my memories, Grandma had always been kind to me. But I also knew she could be harsh when protecting the pack. Had she hurt someone in the past to defend the Morrigansâ territory?
"Did you find anything about the Blackwells?" I asked.
"Very little," Lewis replied. "The internet is powerful now, but decades ago, records were easier to erase. Some histories disappear if someone wants them to."
That didnât ease my mind.
He rubbed my back slowly. "Itâs late. Tomorrow weâll visit the Morrigans. Maybe weâll find something there."
My body was tired, but my thoughts raced until morning.
The next day, Lewis and I went to the Morrigansâ residence for the first time since everything fell apart.
Malcom was home recovering from heart surgery.
When I stepped into the yard, I felt it immediately.
The place felt empty.
Not physically empty but lifeless. The pack aura that once filled the estate was thin, unstable. Most of the maids were gone. The garden looked neglected.
Malcom sat on the couch in loose pajamas, staring at us.
"What brings you here?" he asked.
In just weeks, he had aged years.
His hair was completely gray now. His back slightly bent. His eyes dull.
He had been my father in name for over twenty years.
Seeing him like that, I felt more sadness than anger.
They had been blind. Misled. But they were still people.
"Are you feeling better?" I asked awkwardly.
"I wonât die yet," he said bluntly.
Greg stood nearby. He looked exhausted too. I heard his girlfriend had left him recently. Loss seemed to follow this house.
He glanced at Lewis with caution, but his tone remained polite. "Letâs get to the point. My father needs rest."
Lewisâs voice was calm but firm. "Weâre here to talk about Camilla."
Greg exhaled sharply. "I already know about the child. Itâs gone."
The house fell quiet again.
Money no longer mattered here. Power no longer mattered. They had already lost too much.
"Itâs not just that," Lewis continued. "The Hales have also been targeted. Both our families are under attack."
He looked directly at Malcom. "Mr. Morrigan, I know you are grieving. But if you continue like this, you may lose your last son too."
Malcomâs eyes flickered.
Lewisâs presence changed the room. Not loud. Not aggressive. But steady. Dominant.
"The deaths werenât accidents," Lewis said slowly. "They were planned. My family has suffered similar incidents. We believe someone is manipulating events from behind the scenes."
Malcom swallowed. "What happened to the Hales?"
Lewis explained briefly about Vicky. About Camilla. About the strange connections.
When he finished, Greg slammed his fist on the table. "What are you implying?"
I stepped forward.
"Camilla is not your real daughter."
The room went still.
Malcom stared at me like he misheard. "What did you say?"
"Sheâs an impostor," I said clearly. "The real Camilla is still alive."
His face drained of color. "Youâre saying... sheâs not my daughter?"
"Yes."
I pulled out the DNA report I prepared beforehand and placed it on the table.
"This is the paternity test. It shows there is no biological relationship."
Malcomâs hands began to shake.
Tears filled his eyes.
"So all these years... I hurt Elena... because of someone who wasnât even my child?"
Greg grabbed the report, his fingers trembling as he read through it.
"Dad..." His voice cracked. "We... we wronged Elena."
The weight of truth settled heavily in the room.
And for the first time
The Morrigans looked at me not as an enemy.
But as someone they had failed.