Chapter 316: My Precious Girl
In this chapter, I couldnât shake what I saw in the basement.Those bodies under white sheets. Too still.... Continue reading Chapter 316 of "Mated To The Crippled Alpha" for the full story!
I couldnât shake what I saw in the basement.Those bodies under white sheets. Too still. Too exposed. Coated in a strange, glossy layer like someone had "preserved" them for later.
My stomach turned every time I remembered it.
Even if Yael hadnât done that part himself, the fact that he could stand near it work around it like it was normal... that alone made my skin crawl.
My instincts kept whispering one thing.
Run.
But I couldnât. Not yet. Not without a plan.
"Yael," I said carefully, forcing my voice to stay steady, "Iâm really tired today. Maybe we can do this another time."
I tried to step back.
He stepped forward at the same time, like heâd already predicted my retreat.
"Elena," he said softly, almost patient. "Thereâs nothing to worry about. I wonât hurt you. I just need to see your body. Silas damaged your original one, and Iâve regretted it ever since."
His eyes slid over me like I was something rare.
"This new body," he added, voice lowering, "itâs flawless. I want to study it properly."
My throat tightened.
"Yael..." I swallowed hard. "Itâs cold. Undressing isnât a good idea right now."
He didnât even blink. "This island stays warm all year. You wonât get cold."
Then his hand moved to my collar.
Not a grab. Not a shove.
Worse.
A calm, casual reach like he had the right.
My chest squeezed tight, my heart slamming.
"Yael, stop!" I cried.
He yanked.
Two buttons snapped off, popping like tiny gunshots in the room, and my shoulder slipped free. The strap of my top showed.
And so did the marks Lewis left on me.
Faint bruises. Darkened kisses. Proof of my bond. Proof of my mate.
Yaelâs face changed instantly. The warmth drained from him like someone flipped a switch.
His voice went cold. "Elena... your body is ruined."
I felt panic rise so fast it almost choked me.
"Yael, you know Iâm bonded. Itâs normal for mates to "
He cut me off without emotion.
"Marks like these destroy beauty."
That was when it hit me, sharp and clear.
He didnât see me as a person.
He saw me as a piece of art that didnât belong to anyone else.
I forced myself to breathe, to think.
"Theyâll fade," I said quickly. "In a few days, theyâll fade. We can continue when theyâre gone, okay?"
A small smile pulled at his mouth.
It didnât comfort me.
"Thereâs no need to wait," he said, almost pleasantly. "If somethingâs dirty... you clean it."
Cold dread slid down my spine.
"Clean it?" I whispered. "How?"
My mind flashed with horrible images scrubbing until skin tore, chemical burns, pain that never stopped.
Before I could move, he bent and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.
He held me tight, voice low against my ear.
"Donât fight, Elena. I canât promise what Iâll do if you struggle." His breath warmed my cheek. "Youâre beautiful... and Iâm still a man."
My body went stiff.
Not because I believed him in some romantic way.
Because the warning underneath his words was clear.
I didnât move. I barely breathed.
He laughed quietly, like I was adorable. "Youâre so sweet. I feel like kissing you."
"You donât," I snapped, meeting his eyes.
For a second, something flickered across his face amusement, maybe. Interest. Hunger. The kind that wasnât about food.
Then he turned and carried me into another room.
It wasnât filled with sculptures.
It was worse.
Shelves of jars. Unmarked bottles. strange tools. stacks of vials that looked like they belonged in a hidden lab, not a home.
Lewisâs warnings came rushing back about groups who hid from the world, making illegal things in the dark.
Yael walked past the shelves and into what looked like a washroom.
Without a word, he placed me into a large bathtub.
The second my feet touched the cold surface, panic exploded in me and I tried to climb out.
His voice stopped me like a blade at my throat.
"Elena. If you run, Iâll cut off your legs." He said it like he was discussing groceries. "That way youâll behave."
I froze.
My fingers clutched the edge of the tub so tightly they hurt.
I forced myself to speak like I was calm, like I was still in control.
"The tub is dirty," I stammered. "It needs cleaning."
Yael tilted his head, amused. Then he patted my hair like I was a pet.
"Good. Stay here," he said. "Iâll clean it properly. Donât move."
My legs refused to obey any urge to bolt. For all I knew, cameras were hidden everywhere. Running blind would only make things worse.
"Fine," I whispered. "I wonât move."
He knelt and scrubbed the tub with unsettling care, like he was preparing a ritual.
My anxiety climbed with every second.
This was what a cage feels like, I realized.
Not bars.
Just certainty that you canât leave.
For the first time, I understood a piece of Whitneyâs nightmare. One day with Yael felt like a hand closing around my throat.
How did she survive years under Vito?
When the tub gleamed, Yael filled it with warm water.
Then he motioned. "Itâs ready, Elena."
I climbed in fully dressed, grateful he didnât demand more from me.
Wet clothes were better than being exposed.
I thought maybe... maybe that was all.
I was wrong.
Yael returned holding a small dark bottle. No brand. No label that belonged to any real place.
"Whatâs in that?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He swirled it slowly, almost lovingly. "Something to help you get clean."
"I can wash myself," I said fast. "Thereâs no need to add anything."
He smiled, calm as ever.
"Donât worry," he said. "Iâll make sure youâre perfectly clean. Not a single blemish will remain."
Then he poured it into the water.
The liquid looked blue for a second then vanished completely, blending like it had never existed.
My pulse spiked.
"What... what is this?"
Pain shot up from my feet like fire.
I screamed.
Even through my clothes, every patch of skin touching the water felt like it was being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles. It wasnât heat. It wasnât cold.
It was agony.
Like my nerves were being peeled open from the inside.
"Yael!" I cried, shaking so hard the water splashed over the edge. "Stop please!"
I tried to crawl out.
He pushed me down.
Not violently. Not frantically.
Firmly. Easily.
Like my strength didnât matter.
"Does it hurt, Elena?" he asked softly, almost tender. "Iâll stay with you, okay?"
His eyes gleamed with something feverish.
Then he stepped into the tub with me and wrapped his arms around me so I couldnât move, pinning me against his chest as the pain tore through my body.
"It hurts like hell!" I sobbed, voice cracking. "Yael, let me go! I canât take this!"
"Just a little longer," he murmured into my hair. "Soon youâll be clean. Youâll feel better."
I dug my nails into his wrist, dragging down hard.
Blood welled up.
He didnât even flinch.
His face looked almost... affectionate.
"Forget about that man," he whispered. "Stay with me."
My vision blurred. My teeth chattered from shock. My body shook so hard I couldnât control it.
"This is madness," I gasped.
"I wonât care about your past," he said, voice tightening, possession sharpening every word. "After I clean you up... youâll be mine. Only mine."
My instincts screamed, furious and helpless, slamming against my ribs like they wanted out.
I fought with everything I had left, trying to break free.
"Yael let me go!"
But the pain swallowed the room.
My strength slipped away like water through my fingers.
Everything went dark.
I collapsed in his arms.
And as I fell into unconsciousness, I heard his soft, possessive whisper against my ear
"Elena... my precious."