Chapter 402: Unboxing it
Starting Chapter 402 of "Mated To The Crippled Alpha": Not long ago, Theo had looked me in the eye and told me the man... See what happens next!
Not long ago, Theo had looked me in the eye and told me the man would need a few months to recover. Now he was dead. I had always trusted Theoâs judgment completely he was precise, controlled, never sloppy. He had been sent to teach a lesson, not to end a life. Which meant someone else had gotten there after him.Whitney was still in the middle of her name change when the police arrived. The process wasnât complete yet, though Lewis had already found someone to push the paperwork through faster. She had been using the Morrigan residence as her registered address, and the name Camilla Morrigan had too much of Wisteriaâs shadow on it so Whitney had chosen something new. Starling Morrigan. A name that was entirely hers. That was why Nelson had come straight to the Morrigansâ door, and because we had known each other long enough, he took the time to walk us through it properly rather than just issuing a summons.
Whitneyâs voice was steady when she asked, "How did he die?"
"His limbs were severed. His head is missing."
Even after everything Iâd witnessed over the past year, those words hit my stomach like a fist. I gagged before I could stop myself.
Whitney and Lewis both turned toward me immediately.
"Iâm fine," I said, and forced myself to mean it.
Nelsonâs expression was careful. "The method bears a strong resemblance to Ms. Elenaâs own murder case. The same level of brutality, the same deliberate staging. Weâve opened an investigation and need everyone present at the earlier altercation to come in and assist."
"Weâll all go," I said. "Lewis and I were both there."
Nelson couldnât share much in the open, but I wanted to be inside that station. The timing of this death was too clean, too convenient. And the way it had been done that kind of savagery wasnât random. It had a signature. It had Bloodshade written through it like a thread.
At the station, we gave our statements one by one. Luther was finishing his own when we arrived composed, unhurried, explaining that he had only dislocated the manâs arm and immediately reset it, which left nothing actionable. We exchanged a brief nod and went our separate ways.
Theo, thankfully, had been careful. He had kept well away from every camera when he dealt with the man afterward. The victim had visible injuries, yes, but without footage there was no clean line of evidence to follow, and Nelson knew it.
Before we left, Nelson pulled Lewis and me aside quietly.
"This keeps circling back to the Morrigans, and I donât think itâs coincidence. Elenaâs case is still open. Now this." He looked at me directly. "Mr. Hale please keep her close. Iâm starting to think whoever is behind this may have her in their sights."
"Thank you, Captain," Lewis said. "Has there been any movement on the organ trafficking investigation?"
Nelson gave a short nod. "Weâre working on it."
Our group walked out into the afternoon light, and I noticed Whitney was somewhere far away behind her eyes. I nudged her gently. "This has nothing to do with you. Donât let your mind go there."
She started to say something, then stopped herself and shook her head. "Itâs nothing. Iâm probably overthinking."
"Skip class tonight. Rest."
"Iâm fine, Elena. Itâs one isolated case. Youâre the one whoâs pregnant you should be the one going home." She gave me a look that left no room for argument.
"Call me if anything feels off," I said.
Seeing Vivian waiting at the door of the residence when we dropped Whitney off helped ease the tension in my chest. She wasnât alone. I let myself be reassured by that as we pulled away.
In the car, I leaned into Lewisâs side. "Carl, do you think theyâre targeting us directly?"
"Hard to say yet."
I sat up suddenly. "What if Vito is alive? What if he survived the shipwreck and this is him going after someone who hurt Whitney?"
A method that brutal, that deliberate it felt like it came from somewhere personal. It felt like it came from that organization.
Lewisâs expression darkened. "If Amber and the others were safe, they would have found a way to reach me by now." He said it quietly, but I heard what was underneath it. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted someone from the Blackwells to simply appear out of nowhere and prove weâd panicked over nothing.
"Then who?" I asked.
"I havenât seen the scene. I need to get the evidence and photos before I can say anything useful." He looked at me. "For the next few days stay home. Donât go out for anything. Whatever happens, you wait for me."
"Alright," I agreed, and meant it this time. I was tired in a way that went all the way through me. My body wanted a bed and nothing else.
When we got home, I found the small comfort I hadnât known I needed: our kitten darting across the yard after a butterfly, completely absorbed, completely unbothered by the weight of the world. I stood and watched her for a moment and felt something loosen.
A housekeeper appeared from the side of the house carrying a box. "Mrs. Hale, this arrived for you."
"Just set it down. Itâs probably the cat bed I ordered."
A few days ago I had fallen down an online shopping spiral at two in the morning and bought an absurdly soft-looking cat bed without much deliberation. In my past life I had always loved the small ritual of opening packages the tearing of tape, the rustling of packaging, that particular anticipation before you saw what was inside. It had been a long time since Iâd had anything to look forward to like that. Something ordinary and harmless and mine.
"Should I open it?" the housekeeper offered.
"No, I want to do it myself."
The kitten immediately came to investigate, sitting at a suspicious distance from the box with her ears forward and her tail curled around her paws.
"Relax," I told her, crouching down and scratching behind her ears. "Iâll get you proper food next time. For now letâs see what weâve got "
I flipped open the box flap.
"Ah!"
"Elena!"
Lewis was across the yard in seconds, having dropped everything the moment he heard me cry out. I had stumbled backward several feet, my legs refusing to hold me properly. He caught me before I went down completely, one arm locking around my back.
"What happened? Are you hurt?"
I couldnât speak. I raised one trembling hand and pointed at the box.
Lewis looked at Theo. Theo picked up a stick and lifted the other half of the lid.
Inside, sitting on a tray, was a human head.
The face was pale and blood-spattered. His glasses were still on. His eyes were open and frozen mid-terror, staring directly upward directly at me. The head had been kept cold for some time before being packed, because there was no fresh blood when the box was first opened. But the warmth of the air was already doing its work. A thin layer of frost was dissolving across his face, and as it melted, blood began seeping from every opening slow, dark, unstoppable.
The world tilted.
And then it went black entirely.