Chapter 320: Kill Him
Chapter 320 of "Mated To The Crippled Alpha" unveils: When I came to, the last thing I remembered hit me all at once.Heavy clouds.... Continue the story!
When I came to, the last thing I remembered hit me all at once.Heavy clouds. Rain beating the ground like it was angry. That black snake coiled on the tombstone, green eyes fixed on me like it had been waiting.
I shot up from the bed, and pain ripped through my knees so sharp I had to bite back a sound. My hands flew to the mattress for balance.
Then I looked around.
Same room. Same cold air. Same quiet that didnât feel like peace.
Of course it wasnât Lewis.
Hope had been a stupid thing to cling to.
The place had been cleaned, though. The sheets smelled fresh, like someone had tried to erase what happened. My knee had been treated too ointment rubbed in, gauze wrapped tight. Ten hours on my knees in that cemetery had left my body shaking, and someone had taken the time to patch me up like I was a broken tool worth keeping.
Outside, it was night again.
Rain slapped the windows nonstop. Wind screamed down the cliffs, and the waves below crashed so hard it felt like the island itself was growling. The sound got under my skin, waking something old and primal in me an urge to run, to hide, to bare my teeth at the dark.
I sat on the bed and pulled my legs to my chest, trying to make myself small.
Now I knew the truth about the Morrigans and the Blackwells. The old blood-debt. The revenge that had been carried like a curse, passed down like a scar.
The Blackwells had suffered.
But so had the Morrigans.
My body had been destroyed once. Ethan and Jake were gone, taken brutally, never even knowing what theyâd supposedly "owed." And Whitney... she was alive, which somehow felt worse. Alive and trapped. Alive and enduring.
It was all tangled together too tight, too ugly to undo.
I thought I had escaped the Morrigans when I died.
But here I was again, dragged back into the same storm.
Two days and a night had passed. Maybe more.
And Lewis...
My chest tightened at the thought of him. The bond between us wasnât just a ring and a word. It was the way my body reacted when his name came up. The way my instincts kept reaching for him like he was home.
I slid off the bed, careful, but the moment my foot touched the floor, my knee flared with pain. I winced and sucked in a breath.
Still hungry. Still weak.
I limped to the window. Outside, the ocean stretched out black and endless. Lightning tore the sky open for a second, turning the waves white and violent. Rain fell in thick sheets, like the world was being washed and punished at the same time.
Fate felt like that storm.
Always right there.
Always out of reach.
Never letting me go.
My stomach cramped. I had missed too many meals. Following Yael, obeying, surviving nine meals gone, maybe more. My body was starting to feel hollow.
But I wasnât stupid enough to threaten him with starvation.
I liked living.
With my bad leg, I hobbled to the door, hoping I could find something to eat. The second I opened it, wind slammed down the hallway and whipped my skirt and hair around me. The corridor was dim, the kind of dim that made corners feel alive.
And Yael wasnât in sight.
That made it worse.
Because when he wasnât in front of me, my mind filled the space with every terrible possibility.
There were snakes on this island. Too many of them.
And I didnât know what else lived here.
Yael didnât chain me because he didnât need to. No signal. No phone. No boat. And even if I tried to run, the vipers and the cliffs would finish the job.
With the storm raging, escaping would be a death sentence.
Still, hunger pushed me forward.
I didnât want to wander too far alone, so I did the one thing that made sense.
I went to find him.
I took the stairs down into the basement. Thunder rolled overhead, but down here it felt like the sound had moved into my chest. The air was colder. Heavier. Like the stone itself was watching.
I hurried, limping faster than my knee wanted.
The moment I stepped into the stone chamber, the carvings came into view faces, bodies, poses... all of them mine. A whole room made of me.
My throat tightened.
"Yael?" I called, trying to keep my voice steady.
I knew he would be here.
And he was.
In the corner, he was curled up beneath a statue one of me in a crouched position, fingers stretched out, expression soft and calm... like I was offering comfort.
He was huddled under it like he truly believed I could keep him safe.
The sight pulled a memory out of me so fast it made my eyes sting.
I was fourteen again, stepping out after piano lessons. The night was wet and cold, and the streetlights looked blurred through rain. Under a tree, a small boy was huddled, shaking, trying to hide from the storm.
I remembered crouching down, holding my umbrella over him.
"Are you okay?" I had asked. "Where are your parents?"
His face had been wet tears and rain mixed together. He grabbed my skirt like it was a lifeline.
"Please donât take me back," he had begged. "My mom will kill me. Just... stay with me for a little while. My brother will find me."
So I stayed.
I patted his back, rested a hand on his head, and told him the simplest thing in the world.
"Donât worry. Iâm here."
That boy... was Yael.
He must have been terrified of storms even then. Nights like this were his nightmare. And seeing me back then must have lodged in his mind like a mark he never stopped touching.
"Elena..."
His voice pulled me back to the present.
He lifted his head like he was still that fragile kid, forgetting he was a grown man now tall, strong, dangerous.
Before I could move, he lunged into me.
His weight knocked me down, and I fell hard, my knee screaming. I braced myself with one hand to keep him from crushing me completely.
His chin pressed into my neck.
Then I felt it hot tears on my skin.
Through shaky breaths, he whispered, "Elena... hold me."
My whole body went still.
Because this was weakness.
Real weakness.
And weakness, in men like him, could flip into cruelty without warning.
I didnât know everything he had lived through, but I could see it in his grip, in his breathing, in the way the storm outside seemed to crawl inside his head.
And then I saw it.
A utility knife on the floor beside us.
For a second, my heart stopped.
My fingers moved before my morals could catch up.
I kept my face calm, like I was comforting him, like I wasnât planning anything. My hand slid toward the knifeâs handle, slow, careful.
If I wanted to leave...
This was the moment.
If I killed him, I could use his fingerprints. Unlock his phone. Contact someone. Find a way off this island.
I could see Lewis again.
The thought of my past life flashed in my mind snow turning red, my body cold, my vision fading. And Yael... he had been part of that circle. Part of the nightmare that ended me.
My grip tightened around the knife.
The blade caught a thin strip of light, a quiet glint in the shadows.
My mind raced.
He was wearing a thin shirt. It would slide in easy. Fast.
One strike.
Then another.
And it would be over.
My heartbeat pounded so loud I thought he would hear it.
But then another thought hit me, hard enough to shake my hand.
If I do this... what am I?
What makes me different?
Another voice answered, cold and sharp, rising from that animal place inside me.
Heâs not safe. Heâs not normal. Heâs a predator. Ending him would protect others.
What about the girls in the basement?
What about Whitney?
What about anyone he would destroy next?
My hand lifted, inch by inch, blade poised.
My palm was slick with sweat. My jaw clenched so tight it hurt.
Then
Thunder exploded so loud it felt like the sky cracked in half.
Kra koom!
The sound shook the whole room. The lights flickered. Dust fell from the ceiling.
And Yaelâs head jerked up.