Mated To The Crippled Alpha

Chapter 489: Heart Condition

I didn’t think about it. I just wrapped my arms around him.

We stayed like that for a while , two people holding each other up in the cold, in the dark, for reasons that had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with survival. It was something older than that. Something that ran bone-deep. When Vito finally pulled back, his face had already closed off again, that familiar calm settling over his features like a mask sliding into place.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Let’s get you something to eat."

He’d brought me food over the years , snacks, warm meals, things he’d clearly gone out of his way for. But by the time anything reached the island, it always arrived a little wrong. A little cold. A little less than it was meant to be. I pressed a hand to my chest absently. There was a faint ache there, dull and distant, like an echo of everything I’d just felt watching Elena walk away.

"What’s wrong?" Vito looked at me, a slight crease between his brows.

"Nothing," I said. "Just the crying. Let’s go."

I told myself that was true. Today had already given me more than I’d let myself hope for , Elena, my parents, glimpses of a life still being lived. As long as they were out there, still breathing, still whole, I could hold on to that.

Vito took me to the fast food place I’d loved as a kid. The second I saw the sign, something lit up in me. "I haven’t had this in years." He’d made me burgers on the island before , good ones, with proper ingredients , but this was different. There was something almost sacred about the grease, the salt, the way it tasted exactly like being nine years old and having nothing to worry about.

I remembered Yael was in Snowville too, and ordered an extra meal without thinking twice. The memory came easily , the two of us sitting in a pile of snack wrappers, sharing chips, him clutching his little milk bottle like it was a lifeline. He’d barely come up to my shoulder back then.

When I actually saw him, I stopped walking.

He was nearly as tall as me now. Ten years old and practically a different person, except for the eyes , still warm, still open, still completely without pretense. I fumbled the takeout bag behind my back and raised one awkward hand. "Do you... still remember me?"

He smiled and walked straight up to me. "Anna."

My whole chest went soft. "Yael. You’ve gotten so big."

"You got prettier," he said simply, like it was just a fact he was reporting.

I laughed, startled. The last time I’d seen him was the day of the family portrait, right before everything in the Blackwelle pack had cracked open at the seams. He hadn’t changed where it mattered , that same easy warmth, that same curiosity leaning forward before the rest of him caught up. He spotted the bag before I could figure out how to offer it.

"Anna, what’s behind your back?"

I held it out, a little sheepish. "I got this for you, but I wasn’t sure if you’d still,"

He grabbed it before I finished the sentence. "You knew I was craving a burger? My food buddy is back."

"You remember?"

"Obviously. You always ate the chips before I could get to them." He was already digging through the bag, grinning, and just like that we were laughing, bumping shoulders, falling back into something easy that I hadn’t realized I’d missed so much. Vito watched from a few feet back with the quiet expression he used when he was trying not to show that something had moved him.

Yael grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the basement of the villa. I followed, expecting nothing, and then stopped in the doorway.

Stone carvings filled the entire room. Dozens of them, in various sizes, ranging from rough sketches in rock to things so detailed they seemed to breathe. "You made all of these?"

"Every single one." He puffed up, barely containing his pride. "My grandfather was a genius at it. It runs in the family, but Vito and my dad never cared, so." He shrugged, easy about it. "Someone has to carry it on."

He led me toward a large piece covered by a black cloth, and something about the way he moved changed , slower, more careful, like he was presenting something that mattered.

"My masterpiece," he said.

He pulled the cloth away.

It was Elena. Her face, carved in stone with a precision that made my throat close. Every detail right , the line of her jaw, the way her eyes tilted at the corners.

"Why her?" I asked, softer than I meant to.

Yael didn’t seem to notice the weight in my voice. "She held an umbrella for me once," he said simply. "When I fell, she carried me. I like her." He smiled. "She was kind."

I let out a slow breath. If only all the Blackwelles felt the same way. I knew what was being planned. I’d known for a while. Sooner or later, it was going to reach the Sander pack, and there was nothing I could do about it from where I stood.

"Anna? You okay?"

"Fine," I said. "Come on, show me the others."

The next morning, Vito took us to an amusement park. I’d dreamed about this as a kid , always imagined Elena and Ethan being the ones to take me, making a whole day of it. He wasn’t a Sander. He wasn’t even supposed to be someone I trusted. But somehow, he kept filling in the spaces where my family couldn’t reach.

Yael immediately locked onto the roller coaster and grabbed my hand. "Anna. Let’s go."

"That looks terrifying."

"That’s the point. Why would anyone ride it if it wasn’t scary?"

I looked at Vito. He shrugged. "You two go ahead."

But Yael was relentless, and honestly, I’d stopped being good at saying no to him about five minutes after we reunited. "Fine," I said. "Fine, let’s go."

Vito, to his credit, got in line with us.

Less than a minute into the ride, something went wrong. Not the fear , I could handle fear. This was different. A tightening in my chest, deep and spreading, squeezing in a way that had nothing to do with the speed or the drops. I’d felt something similar skydiving, and I’d pushed past it then. This time I couldn’t.

Vito’s arm came around me, guiding my head against his chest. "Close your eyes," he said, close to my ear.

I did. It didn’t help.

By the time we got off, my hands were shaking. I pressed my palm flat against my sternum and tried to breathe through it. Vito was already looking at me , really looking, the way he did when he was running through something in his head.

"I’m fine," I said quickly. "Just adrenaline. Give me a second."

He didn’t say anything. He tilted my chin up, checked my lips, checked my color. Something shifted in his expression , not alarm exactly, but a sharpening of attention that told me he wasn’t buying it.

"This isn’t adrenaline, Anna. We’re going to the hospital."

I wanted to argue. I didn’t have the energy.

The examination took longer than I expected. Afterward, the doctor sat across from us with the kind of careful, neutral expression that meant the news wasn’t light. Vito sat beside me, still and watchful.

The results came back.

Hereditary heart condition. The words landed flat and heavy in the quiet room, and I sat there for a moment trying to figure out what to do with them.

I pressed my hand to my chest again , the same spot that had ached outside the hotel, watching Elena cry in the snow.

So it hadn’t been grief after all.