Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 111: Don’t Kill Me
The moment I saw the man coming toward us, something deep inside me reacted before my mind could catch up.
I shoved Lewis away without thinking.
"Riley " he started, startled.
I clapped my hand over his mouth and shook my head, forcing him to follow my gaze.
The street was almost empty. Too quiet. A few streetlights flickered, leaving long shadows stretched across the pavement. Every small sound felt sharp in the stillness. Then I saw him.
A tall figure moved slowly toward us. He wore a heavy coat, his head lowered beneath a dark cap. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but my chest tightened anyway.
Something about him was wrong.
The way he walked. His height. The rhythm of his steps.
It was too similar.
My body locked up. My hands started shaking before I understood why.
The memory hit me all at once.
Cold. Snow crushing under my shoes. Wind slicing through my skin. The sudden pain sharp, brutal tearing through me. Blood soaking everything. Me stumbling along the riverbank, breath ragged, fighting to stay alive while footsteps followed behind me.
Silent. Steady. Unhurried.
He hadn’t needed words. His eyes had said it all.
Just remembering them made my stomach twist.
As the man drew closer, breathing became hard. My chest felt tight, like the air had been pulled out of me. Sweat broke out along my hairline. I couldn’t stop trembling.
Lewis reacted instantly.
He pulled me against him, arms firm around my shoulders, his presence solid and grounding. His voice stayed calm, low, steady. "Riley. I’m here. You’re safe."
But fear like this doesn’t listen to reason.
It lived deeper than thought. It lived in instinct. In memory. In the part of me that remembered dying.
I clutched his sleeve, gripping it like an anchor. I bit the inside of my cheek hard, forcing myself to stay present.
If I could see his eyes, I’d know.
I would always know.
He was still far away, maybe a hundred feet or more, but coming closer. The long black coat made him look like a shadow pulled free from the dark.
When he reached our car, he slowed.
Then he turned his head slightly, glancing toward the window.
I stopped breathing.
The glass was tinted, but it felt like he could see straight through it. Like his gaze locked onto mine. For a split second, the past and present blurred together, and it felt like I was dying all over again.
My heart slammed so hard it hurt. I stayed frozen, terrified that even the smallest movement would give me away.
Then he looked away.
He kept walking.
The weight crushing my chest vanished all at once.
I sucked in a shaky breath and collapsed against Lewis, my body weak, unsteady.
"Was that him?" he asked quietly.
I shook my head, slow and certain. "No... it wasn’t."
He had looked similar. Too similar. But when our eyes met, I knew.
The man who killed me had eyes empty of warmth. No hesitation. No mercy.
This man didn’t.
I glanced down and realized how tightly I was holding Lewis’s hand. My nails had dug into his skin, leaving red marks behind.
"I’m sorry," I whispered. "I got scared."
He didn’t pull away. Didn’t question me. He just looked at me, his expression calm, steady, understanding in a way that made my chest ache.
"It’s alright," he said softly. "That place stirred things up. I’ll keep looking into it. We’ll uncover the truth."
I nodded, too drained to say more, leaning into him.
"Lewis..." My eyelids felt heavy. "Can I stay here for a bit?"
His hand moved to my hair, brushing it back gently, protective without being overwhelming. "Of course. Rest."
He held me close.
"I’ve got you."
The car didn’t move again until the man had completely disappeared from sight.
I leaned back against the seat and shut my eyes. I felt empty. Drained. Like something inside me had been scraped raw.
Even though I knew he wasn’t the one who killed me, just seeing someone who looked like him was enough to shatter my calm. It made me wonder if I ever stood face-to-face with the real one again, would I even be able to breathe? Or would my body betray me all over again?
What I felt wasn’t just fear.
It was older than logic. Sharper. The kind of panic that rises when something deep inside senses danger before the mind can reason it away.
I had been given another chance at life, but death hadn’t loosened its grip on me. The memory of it lived in my bones. It followed me quietly, waiting for moments like this to resurface.
That night, I couldn’t eat.
I stayed in my room and went to bed early, curling myself into the blankets as if they could protect me. The heater was on, but I still couldn’t stop shivering. The cold wasn’t in the air it was under my skin.
Lewis sent someone to bring up dinner, but the smell alone made my stomach turn.
Not long after, he came himself. He stood by the bed, concern clear in his eyes. "Are you feeling alright? Do you want me to call someone to check on you?"
I shook my head weakly. "No... I’m fine. Just not hungry."
"You’re sure?"
"I’m "
A sudden loud boom tore through the air.
I gasped and jumped up, running straight into Lewis’s arms. My whole body shook as he wrapped himself around me, firm and steady, grounding me before I could fall apart.
"It’s okay," he murmured close to my ear. "It’s almost New Year’s. Probably fireworks."
Outside the window, bright colors burst across the sky.
But all I felt was terror.
That night came rushing back to me.
The snow. The pain. The blood. Fireworks lighting up the sky while I lay dying, alone and forgotten. I remembered Julian laughing, kissing Camilla beneath those same explosions of light, while my body grew colder by the second.
My hand flew to my side, pressing hard, expecting pain. Expecting blood.
There was nothing.
Still, my chest tightened. My breath came out shallow and broken.
"Riley?" Lewis pulled back slightly, trying to see my face. "What’s wrong?"
I opened my palm slowly. No blood. Just trembling fingers.
"Please," I whispered. "Close the curtains. I don’t want to see them."
"Alright," he said at once.
With a soft hum, the electric curtains slid shut, sealing the lights away. The room darkened, but the sounds still echoed sharp, sudden, relentless.
Lewis wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me close. His warmth seeped into me little by little.
"I’m freezing," I murmured. "I can’t stop shaking."
He rubbed my back in slow, steady strokes. "Then I’ll stay with you tonight."
Normally, I would have refused.
But tonight, fear had its claws deep in me. I didn’t want to be alone. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that man’s silhouette again, dragging memories up from a place I’d tried to bury.
Even in the dark, I could see it.
The sky bursting with light. Blood soaking into white fabric. My body lying still by the riverbank. Julian’s smile beneath the fireworks.
Something inside me broke.
I started crying, clutching Lewis like he was the only solid thing left in the world.
He sat down with me on the bed, holding me close. The clean scent of soap clung to him, calm and familiar, easing the chaos in my head just a little.
"It’s over," he whispered. "You’re safe."
I buried my face against his chest, my voice breaking. "It hurts, Lewis. I feel so cold."
"I’m here," he said softly. "I won’t let anything happen to you."
"It’s not enough," I murmured. "I can feel the wind... the snow... it’s on me..."
"You’re not outside," he said gently. "You’re home. There’s no snow here."
But the fireworks kept going, each bang shaking me from the inside.
Reality slipped in and out of focus. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Riley... or Elena.
I kept glancing down at my waist, half-expecting to see blood spreading across the sheets. There was nothing. Still, my body remembered.
It felt like I was dying all over again.
Eventually, the faint scent of incense drifting through the room began to calm me. My shaking slowed. My breathing evened out. Exhaustion finally pulled me under.
But sleep didn’t bring peace.
In my dream, the tall figure stepped out of the shadows again. A knife glinted in his hand, wet with blood.
My blood.
It dripped onto the ground as I crawled backward, hands scraping against stone, desperate to escape.
"Don’t kill me!" I screamed.
