Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 244: Don’t Cry

He tapped my back gently, slow and steady, like an Alpha calming a frightened pup after a nightmare. His palm was warm, firm, reassuring.

"It’s fine," he murmured near my ear. "Don’t cry. I’m here now."

His voice carried that low vibration that always settled my nerves. I turned my head slightly, letting him wipe away the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. His thumb brushed my skin with such care that my chest tightened.

Then a thought struck me so suddenly that my heart skipped.

"Wait... hold on."

Mount Spiritus.

The Grandmaster.

The ritual.

Had Lewis made a deal? In our world, nothing comes free. Not power. Not protection. Not a second chance at life. If my return had required a price, what if he had paid it in blood?

"Is something wrong?" he asked softly, noticing my expression change.

I pulled away from him at once. My instincts flared, sharp and alert. I began patting down his coat, his chest, his sides, searching for anything hidden. Any scent of injury. Any trace of weakness he was trying to conceal.

He caught my hands, a helpless smile tugging at his lips. "Darling, this is the pack hospital," he whispered. "Not exactly the right place. A nurse could walk in any second."

I ignored him completely. My mate’s safety mattered more than anyone walking through that door.

Without hesitation, I slipped his coat off his shoulders. Then I tugged at his sweater.

"Elena, not here..." His ears turned red instantly.

It was almost funny.

This man, who commanded an entire pack with a single look. This man, who could silence a room without raising his voice. This man who once snapped a rival’s finger without blinking.

And yet here he was, blushing because I was undressing him.

The contrast made my heart ache.

Outside, he was cold, distant, even cruel when needed. I had seen him punish traitors without mercy. I had seen the way he handled Silas, ruthless and precise. He was not a soft Alpha.

But with me?

He was something else entirely.

Gentle. Vulnerable. Careful with his strength.

He had carved out a place in my heart long before I realized it. Beyond revenge. Beyond survival. There was him.

"Lewis," I said quietly, "let me check you."

I pushed him down onto the hospital bed. He hesitated only for a second before lying back, obedient in a way that made my pulse quicken. An Alpha like him didn’t submit easily. But for me, he did.

I lifted the last layer of clothing covering his torso.

His chest was toned and firm, his muscles defined from years of training and pack combat. My fingers traced lightly over his skin, searching.

No wounds. No cuts. No ritual marks.

Perfect.

He looked at me, eyes dark and warm. "Are you done?" he asked softly.

"Not yet," I replied.

I reached for the metal buckle of his belt.

He grabbed my wrist immediately. "Elena... please don’t."

Was he hiding something lower? An injury he didn’t want me to see?

I leaned closer, brushing my lips near his ear. "Be good, Lewis," I whispered.

We had already crossed every boundary between us. Unfastening his belt felt natural, effortless. But the way his breath shifted told me he was losing control.

He looked at me with that tender, dangerous expression. "Darling," he warned softly, "if you keep doing this, I won’t be able to hold back."

I brushed my lips over his gently. "Let me finish checking," I murmured. "Just endure it."

Slowly, I pushed his clothes aside.

I had never really looked closely at his legs before. In our world, strength meant survival. Even after his past injury, he had trained hard. His thighs and calves were strong, proof that he never let weakness define him.

But when my eyes reached his knees, my breath caught.

The skin there was darkened, deep purplish-red against his pale tone. Frostbite.

The cold from Mount Spiritus had marked him.

Even though he had treated it, even though he stood strong earlier, the damage was still there. Visible. Painful.

My vision blurred with tears.

I had been so focused on returning. On stabilizing my soul. On surviving. I almost forgot how he knelt in the snow for me. How he bowed again and again on frozen ground, praying for my life while the cold bit into his bones.

Why is it always the good ones who suffer?

He smiled helplessly and rolled his pants down properly, then pulled me gently onto his lap.

"Why are you crying again?" he asked, brushing my cheek. "Have you checked everything? I’m fine. So why are you upset?"

"But your frostbite is terrible," I choked out. "What if your old injury comes back? You were in that car accident before. What if your knees fail again?"

He shrugged like it meant nothing. "So what? As long as you’re back, everything else is nothing."

He smiled faintly. "I used to live with damaged legs. I can handle it."

Even injured, he was making jokes.

That broke me.

I buried my face against his chest and cried harder. My instincts clung to him, like if I let go, I might lose him again.

"Lewis," I whispered, "did I owe you something in another life? Is that why you ended up as my mate in this one?"

He ran his fingers through my hair slowly, soothing me the way he always did.

"Maybe I owe you," he said lightly. "Maybe I’m here to repay a debt."

He said it casually. But something about his words felt deeper. In our world, bonds aren’t random. Mates aren’t accidents. Sometimes they feel older than memory.

If I could return from death, why couldn’t souls find each other again?

Forget past lives.

All that matters is this one.

I have to cherish him.

"Stop crying," he murmured. "You’re tearing at my heart."

He wiped my tears carefully. "It’s just frostbite. It will heal."

As I held onto his wrist, I noticed a small scar on his index finger. Fresh. The skin was still red.

My instincts sharpened instantly.

"How did this happen?"

He glanced at it casually. "Probably scratched it kneeling on the mountain path. It’s nothing. A small cut."

I studied it carefully. Something about it felt deliberate. Controlled.

If the ritual required blood...

But if he had sacrificed something truly serious, would it really look this small?

Aside from the frostbite, there were no other marks on him. No ritual burns. No carved symbols. No weakness in his scent.

Was I overthinking?

I clung to him tighter. "Lewis," I whispered, "promise me you’ll grow old with me. Don’t leave me."

He rubbed his nose against mine playfully. "How about we have a child first? Instead of just growing old together?"

Heat rushed to my face. Even now, even in this chaos, he could still make me blush.

"Once everything is settled," I said softly, "once we catch the mastermind and restore order to the pack... I’ll start preparing. Okay?"

For a second, something flickered in his eyes. A shadow. Complex. Gone too fast for me to fully grasp.

Then he smiled again.

And held me closer.