Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 315: Strip For Me

Every statue had my face.

But when I stepped closer, I saw the differences. The tilt of the chin. The shape of the brows. The softness or sharpness in the eyes.

They weren’t random copies.

They were me at different stages of my life.

One showed me younger, thinner, with quiet sadness still clinging to my shoulders. Another captured me standing tall, dressed in a gown I remembered too well.

I felt sick.

The Blackwells hadn’t just watched the Morrigans from a distance. They had studied us. Tracked us. Collected us like trophies.

The thought of being observed like prey made my skin crawl. My instincts stirred low in my chest, warning me not to show weakness.

I couldn’t fall apart.

Not here.

Not in front of him.

I pointed at the statue in the elegant gown. "This was the piano competition, wasn’t it? The one I won." I swallowed. "You must’ve been twelve back then."

"Yes," Yael said softly, almost reverently. "I’ve known about you for a long time. Elena, you’re like a jewel. Even in darkness, you shine."

His voice carried something dangerous. Admiration twisted into possession.

I forced myself to keep going. I needed answers more than comfort.

"The fake Camilla she’s working with you, isn’t she?" My voice sharpened despite my effort to stay calm. "What do you have against the Morrigans? My sister disappeared when we were kids. Ethan and Jake are dead. Brutally. My grandmother is barely holding on because of that woman."

My throat tightened.

"Why? Why all of this?"

He only smiled, small and secretive. "You’ll understand soon."

That answer told me nothing.

Then he shifted like the conversation bored him. "You must be hungry. Let’s eat first."

The house felt abandoned. No real kitchen, no signs of daily life. Just art. Just obsession.

He poured hot water into two containers of instant noodles like we were camping, not hiding from enemies who wanted me dead.

"Sorry, Elena," he said casually. "No time for anything better."

He handed one to me.

I took it, even though my stomach felt like a knot.

While he focused on his meal, I scanned the room again. Every sculpture was me. Laughing. Crying. Standing proud. Broken. Distant.

Each one so detailed it was disturbing.

That explained the way he looked at Riley when he first saw her face. To him, she had just been a reflection of me. A shadow.

He said he wouldn’t kill me.

But I knew I wouldn’t walk away untouched.

The Blackwell brothers shared a certain madness. But Yael’s was different. Quieter. Sharper. The kind that hides behind talent and patience.

I turned to leave the room, needing space.

And ran straight into him.

I hadn’t heard him move.

How had he crossed the room so silently?

I stepped back instinctively, only to feel the cold surface of a statue press against my spine.

He stood too close.

His presence felt heavy. Dominant. Controlled. Like he was used to others yielding without question.

"Elena," he murmured, voice low and steady, "do you know what I’ve always wanted?"

His fingers caught my chin and tilted my face up.

He wasn’t a boy anymore.

The softness I remembered from the orphanage was gone. This was a grown man with no respect for boundaries.

Fear tightened my face. My fingers gripped the edge of the statue behind me, nails scraping stone.

"W-what?" I managed.

His fingers brushed my lips lightly. The touch was barely there, but my nerves flared instantly. My instincts bristled, ready to snap.

"I’ve sculpted you countless times," he said calmly. "But never while you were actually here. Elena... be my model." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Relief flooded me so fast it almost made me dizzy.

It was just modeling.

I hated that my mind had gone somewhere darker for a split second.

"I’m hungry," I said quickly, trying to create distance.

He stepped back. "Fair enough. Eat first. We have all the time we need."

There was something eager in his eyes. Almost childlike.

That made it worse.

I sat down again, picking up the noodles.

"Are we staying here long?" I asked.

"For now," he replied. "Amber won’t find you here. Theo handled everything. She believes you’re dead."

The fork froze in my hand.

"What?"

He didn’t blink. "To everyone else, you died in an accident. There’s no body. Nothing to trace."

The room tilted.

I had hoped Lewis hadn’t realized I was missing yet.

But this

This meant he believed I was gone.

Completely gone.

My chest tightened painfully.

"How could you do that?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "If Carl thinks I’m dead, he’ll lose control. You don’t understand what that will do to him. Please. Just give him a sign. Something."

I could picture him already.

His Alpha instincts raging. His bond with me snapping tight with grief. The kind of grief that turns into destruction.

I set the noodles down. I couldn’t swallow anymore.

"Yael," I said carefully, steadying my voice. "You’re not like the others. You’re an artist. You chase beauty. Precision. Perfection. Let me stay. I’ll help you with your sculptures. Just promise me you’ll let him know I’m alive."

He leaned in slightly.

"Elena," he said, calm but sharp, "what makes you think I’m a good person?"

His gaze locked onto mine.

"Now, cat," he added softly, almost tender. "Be good. Or I’ll feed you myself."

The words were gentle.

The meaning was not.

His calmness made it colder.

The Blackwell brothers didn’t operate within pack law or human morality. They broke whatever stood in their way.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and picked up the container again.

I ate.

Because survival sometimes looks like obedience.

But my thoughts never left Lewis.

Carl... are you okay?

We share something deeper than words. A bond carved into bone. You have to feel it. You have to know I’m not truly gone.

Don’t let this destroy you.

I will come back.

Someday.

I forced down the last bite.

"Good girl," Yael murmured with a slight tilt of his head.

I studied him quietly.

What kind of childhood twists someone like this? What kind of pack raises sons without limits, without mercy?

He cleared the table, humming softly, then turned back to me. His eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Shall we begin?"

I nodded slowly.

This is about sculpting.

Just sculpting.

I sat down on the chair and adjusted my posture. "Like this? Is this what you need?"

He stepped closer again, that unsettling smile returning.

"Elena," he said casually, like he was discussing the weather, "I need to understand your body better before we begin."

A chill ran through me.

"What are you talking about?" My voice betrayed my fear.

He leaned forward, expression calm.

"Take off your clothes, Elena."