Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 370: Scared Of death

I was afraid to wake up.

The fear sat heavily in my chest even before my eyes opened. Part of me didn’t want to regain consciousness at all. I was terrified that the moment I woke, I would find myself drifting again, separated from my body, forced to watch helplessly as everything around me fell apart.

I had experienced that once before.

The thought of becoming that wandering spirit again, unable to touch anything, unable to change anything, made my heart tighten painfully.

Another thought frightened me even more.

What if I didn’t wake up at all?

What if I simply disappeared... without ever seeing Carter one last time, without getting the chance to say goodbye?

Before my awareness fully returned, pain arrived first.

It spread through my body like fire, sharp and merciless.

Strangely, the moment I felt that pain, relief washed over me.

Pain meant I was still alive.

If I could feel pain, then I wasn’t a drifting soul watching from the outside. I was still inside my own body. I still had a chance.

My head throbbed heavily, and every part of my body ached from the collision. The impact had left a deep, pulsing soreness that spread through my muscles and bones.

Fragments of memory slowly returned.

The crash.

The car.

The moment everything went white.

And then—

Riley.

I remembered seeing her thrown toward the green belt during the collision. I remembered Harlan crawling desperately toward her.

She should be okay... right?

And Whitney.

My heart tightened again.

Whitney had once survived a fragile surgery. Her heart had always been delicate. If she was injured during the crash—

I forced my eyes open.

My vision was blurry at first, but slowly the shapes around me began to sharpen.

Whitney was lying not far away from me.

She was still unconscious.

I turned my head carefully and looked around.

That was when I realized where we were.

We were trapped in a strange room—something like a crude water cell. The ground was damp, covered by a shallow layer of water that barely reached my feet. The air smelled musty and stale, as if the place had been closed for a long time.

Fortunately, the water level wasn’t high.

At least we weren’t drowning.

The room itself was dark, lit only by a faint glow from a small square iron window near the top of the wall.

Outside the window, everything was completely black.

Night had already fallen.

I stayed still for a moment and listened carefully.

After a few seconds, I heard something faint in the distance.

Waves.

The sound was soft, but unmistakable.

My heart sank slightly.

An uneasy guess formed in my mind.

Was this the island Yael had once taken me to?

If the Carlyns were truly seeking revenge, then it would make sense for them to bring us to a place like this—somewhere tied to their past, somewhere they considered sacred ground for their anger.

My gaze slowly moved back toward Whitney.

Her enormous fishtail wedding dress spread across the damp ground around her. The fabric was heavy and elegant, but now it lay soaked and wrinkled in the dirty water.

The diamonds sewn into the dress had scattered everywhere during the crash. They glittered faintly in the darkness like tiny shards of cold starlight.

Whitney herself looked pale and fragile.

Her slender body lay motionless on the ground, the white dress wrapped around her like the tail of a stranded mermaid.

Beautiful.

But heartbreakingly vulnerable.

I instinctively reached for the dagger Carter had given me.

Then I remembered.

The dagger had been left in the car during the crash.

My fingers moved to my neck instead.

To my relief, the silver necklace was still there.

That necklace wasn’t ordinary. Carter had embedded a tracking signal inside it. As long as the island didn’t completely block transmissions, he would eventually be able to locate me.

Just thinking about that gave me a small sense of comfort.

I pressed my hand against the damp ground and slowly pushed myself upright.

Pain shot through my body as I moved, but I forced myself to stand.

Thankfully, all my limbs were still intact.

No broken arms.

No missing legs.

Just a series of cuts and bruises from the shattered glass.

The sharp stinging across my skin explained the pain.

My head spun slightly, and nausea rose in my throat.

Probably a mild concussion.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself before taking a step forward.

The shallow water rippled around my ankles as I moved slowly toward Whitney.

Whitney...

You have to survive.

Each step felt heavy, but I kept moving.

When I finally reached her side, I crouched down and carefully examined her under the faint light from the window.

There were no major injuries.

Just a few small cuts on the back of her hand where the broken glass had scratched her.

Nothing serious.

I felt some of the tension leave my chest.

Considering everything that had happened, this outcome was almost a miracle.

The worst had already happened.

But somehow we had survived it.

I gently reached out and touched Whitney’s cheek.

Her skin felt cool and slightly damp.

"Whitney," I whispered hoarsely. "Are you okay?"

For a moment, there was no response.

Then her lips moved slightly.

"Chloe..."

Her voice was faint, but hearing it made my chest loosen with relief.

"I’m here," I said quickly. "How do you feel? Does your heart hurt?"

Whitney slowly opened her eyes.

Her gaze was still unfocused at first, but when she saw me, a small smile appeared on her pale face.

"Chloe... I’m fine," she murmured softly.

Her eyes filled with emotion.

"You’ve been protecting me the whole time."

Her words made something tighten inside me.

There were things Whitney didn’t fully understand.

Years ago, she had undergone a heart transplant. After the surgery, her body had struggled badly with rejection. Her condition had been unstable for a long time.

But everything changed six months ago.

Since she began living with the heart I had once carried, something strange had happened. Instead of rejecting it, her body gradually accepted it more and more.

The connection between her body and that heart had become stronger with time.

There were no rejection symptoms anymore.

In fact, her health had steadily improved.

Maybe that was the only meaningful thing I had done before I died.

At least I had protected my sister.

And right now, as I looked at her breathing slowly beside me in that dark room, I realized something else.

No matter what happened next... I would protect her again.