Mated To The Crippled Alpha

Chapter 469: The Dead Were Gone

Lucian blinked his big, beautiful eyes and mumbled, "Buh-woo.""It’s not ’Buh-woo.’ It’s ’brother-in-law.’ Come on, say it with me , bro... ther-in... law."

"Brubby-law."

"No, not ’Brubby-law,’ it’s , ouch!"

Riley stomped on Harlan’s foot, scooped Lucian up, and carried him off. Before she turned the corner, she playfully shook his little head. "Quick, shake out all that nonsense."

"Janice , ugh, I mean, Riley! What do you mean by nonsense?"

Harlan chased after them, and Bill took the opportunity to toss a freshly changed diaper straight at his chest. "What do you think you’re doing, raising your voice at my daughter?"

Harlan shrank back immediately. "My dear father-in-law, you misunderstood me,"

"Father-in-law? In your dreams. Get away from me."

Philippa took Riley’s hand and steered her away. "Sweetheart, never settle for a man who can’t keep himself together. And definitely not a man like," Her gaze drifted to Bill, who looked back at her with quiet hope, only for her to say flatly, "A man like your father. Total scumbag."

Riley nodded seriously. "Understood."

Bill still hadn’t won Philippa over, but they had time. Twenty years of pain didn’t disappear overnight, but he had the rest of his life to make up for it, and it was clear he intended to try.

Harlan, completely missing the room, leaned against the wall with a satisfied smirk. "My dear father-in-law, looks like your standing here isn’t much higher than mine."

Bill shot him a look that could have stripped paint. "At least I had it all once. My child is grown. You , you have nothing, and you’re still grinning like an idiot."

Harlan had no response to that.

Bill let it go and walked over to me instead. "It’s getting late. We won’t keep you any longer. If you’re tired, just say so." His voice was gentle in a way that caught me off guard. He pulled me carefully into his arms and stroked my hair. "We’re pack, Elena. Don’t carry everything alone. You still have us."

I swallowed hard and nodded, blinking back tears. "I know. Go focus on winning Mom over."

He laughed softly. "That doesn’t matter as much as just being near them. That’s enough for me." He really had changed. The edge he used to carry was gone, replaced by something quieter and steadier.

Kate had been standing in the corner the whole time, watching us. There was a trace of something in her eyes , not quite sadness, not quite longing, but close to both. After everyone else filtered out, she walked over slowly. "We’re here for you too. Don’t be sad."

She wanted to hug me. I could see her hesitate, unsure if I’d pull away. She stayed close but kept a careful distance, the way someone does when they’re afraid of being rejected.

After everything, I still had two sets of parents. Compared to Lewis, I had no right to complain.

"Mom," I said quietly. "Can you hold me for a while?"

She froze. Then tears broke across her face, and she said, "Yes."

She held me tightly, whispering my name , "Coco" , over and over, like she was afraid I’d disappear if she stopped. I held her back and let go completely, sobbing in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to in years, calling out for her until my voice went hoarse.

All those years of being misunderstood. All those times I had stood in rooms full of people and felt invisible. On the worst nights, what I had wanted more than anything wasn’t safety , it was just for someone in my family to look at me and truly see me. I had envied how quickly Philippa had recognized Riley. Kate and I had taken so much longer to find each other, and the road between us had been full of sharp edges.

But she was still here. She was alive. And right now, that was the only thing that mattered.

For my mating ceremony, she had dyed her hair and gone through treatments to look her best. She didn’t look as worn as she had a few months ago, though the lines on her face were still there , evidence of everything she’d lived through. She had always cared so much about how she looked. She had paid a price, and so had I, but we were still standing.

"Don’t cry," she said softly. "Your dad and I will always be here."

I nodded, took a breath, and let the last of the tears fall. When it was finally over, I felt lighter , emptied out in the best possible way.

"Good girl. Call me anytime. Day or night."

I nodded again and walked her to the door.

When I came back inside, Lewis had already bathed both babies and settled them in bed, sitting beside them quietly. Aside from the redness in his eyes, you would barely know he’d been grieving. His composure was steady, the way an Alpha’s always is , not because the pain isn’t there, but because he’s learned to hold it without collapsing under it.

"Lewis, rest. I’ll stay with them."

He lifted me into his arms instead, his chin resting against my neck, his voice low in my ear. "No. This is all I need."

"I’m sorry," I whispered.

"It’s not your fault. Don’t do that. She made her own choice, and nothing could have changed it. The worst is behind us now. We live well , that’s how we honor her."

"Mm."

At least we were still together. That counted for more than I could say.

The babies stared up at us with wide, curious eyes, then turned to each other and broke into giggles for no reason at all. We played with them until their eyelids grew heavy and they drifted off. I curled into Lewis’s arms, and we fell asleep just like that , the four of us, together.

The dead were gone. The living had to hold onto the present.

The pack had been watching over the Bolton estate ever since everything happened, worried we’d fall apart. Even after the ceremony was called off, no one left. They stayed, and slowly the house that had gone so quiet came back to life around us.

Early the next morning, Harlan appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing an apron and carrying a plate of steak with the focused expression of someone presenting a masterpiece. "Elena, try this. Tell me what you think."

I stared at him. "Are you seriously making steak at this hour? Harlan, are you alright?"

"I heard the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach. So I learned how to cook." He said it with complete sincerity. "I’m not the guy who throws eggs at the ceiling anymore."

I could tell he meant it. Riley was still asleep, so I took the opening. "Do you really love her?"

"Haven’t I made that obvious enough? I wouldn’t risk my life for someone I didn’t love."

His sincerity was plain. But there was still one thing I needed to ask. "Now that you know who Riley really is , do you love the face, or do you love the person underneath it? Can you actually tell the difference?"