Chapter 80

Ava’s POV

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched in horror. Grayson’s hand was pressed firmly against Dylan’s chest, claws piercing the skin. Dylan writhed beneath him, his mouth open in a silent scream, his arms flailing weakly against Grayson’s unyielding strength. Blood seeped around Grayson’s claws, staining Dylan’s shirt and dripping onto the floor.

The sight snapped me out of my paralysis.

“Grayson!” I screamed, the sound cutting through the suffocating tension in the room. My voice was raw, desperate, and trembled under the weight of my emotions. “Stop!”

Grayson froze, his head snapping toward me. His eyes, wild and filled with fury, locked onto mine. For a terrifying moment, I wasn’t sure if he recognized me—or if he even cared. The rage in his expression was animalistic, cold, and unrelenting. My breath caught in my throat as I met his gaze.

“Please,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s enough.”

For what felt like an eternity, Grayson didn’t move. His claws remained embedded in Dylan’s chest, and I thought I might have been too late. Then, slowly, he withdrew his hand. Dylan collapsed to the ground in a motionless heap, gasping weakly as blood pooled beneath him.

Grayson rose to his full height, his breathing heavy but controlled, his body still taut with the remnants of his anger. He didn’t spare Dylan another glance. Instead, his focus shifted to Rickon, who leaned casually against his desk, watching the chaos with an unsettling smirk, as if thoroughly enjoying the destruction.

Grayson’s voice, low and dangerous, cut through the silence. “You seal this alliance with him, you can consider your alliance with me done.”

Rickon’s smirk faltered for a second before returning, but Grayson had already turned away. He crossed the room purposefully, his hand finding mine in a firm grip. Without a word, he began to pull me toward the door. I stumbled after him, too stunned to resist.

Behind us, Isabella’s voice rang out, sharp and accusatory. “This is all your fault, Rickon!”

Then, softer but no less biting, she added, “Bye, Lillian.”

I didn’t look back. Grayson’s hold on me was unrelenting, his pace swift as we exited the office. People stared as we passed, their eyes wide with shock, but no one dared to intervene. My mind raced, wondering why no one had stepped in during the fight, but before I could piece it together, we were outside in the parking lot.

Grayson stopped abruptly next to a sleek black car and opened the passenger door. His voice was cold and commanding as he ordered, “Get in.”

I planted my feet firmly on the ground, crossing my arms over my chest. “No.”

His head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“You heard me,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me. “I’m not getting in. I refuse to keep doing this with you. One moment, you act like you care, and the next, you shut me out completely. Then you defend me like I’m the most important thing in the world, only to turn cold again. I can’t take it anymore, Grayson. I won’t.”

His jaw clenched, the intensity in his eyes making me think for a moment that he might force me into the car. But then, just as suddenly, the fire in his gaze dimmed. He let out a slow, measured breath and stepped back.

“Fine,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual edge. He climbed into the driver’s seat without another word and shut the door.

I stood there, my arms still crossed, watching as he turned on the engine. But he didn’t drive off. Minutes passed, the hum of the car’s motor filling the tense silence, and still, he didn’t move. It was as if he was waiting—for what, I wasn’t sure.

Against my better judgment, I walked over to the car, opened the passenger door, and climbed in, slamming it shut behind me. “I don’t want to talk to you,” I muttered, “Just drive.”

Grayson didn’t respond. He shifted the car into gear and began to drive, the silence between us heavy and oppressive.

The scenery blurred outside the window, and the events of the morning crashed over me like a tidal wave. My chest tightened, and I turned my face toward the glass, trying to steady my breathing. The tension was unbearable, and I was grateful for the distraction of the moving world outside.

Finally, Grayson broke the silence. His voice was low and controlled, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability I hadn’t heard before. “Are we going to talk about what happened this morning?”

I scoffed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “So you can humiliate me even more than I already feel?”

He let out a long sigh, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “No,” he said quietly. “That’s not what I want.”

His words surprised me, but I didn’t respond. I waited, unsure of what he was trying to say.

“My wolf…” Grayson hesitated, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His voice was low, almost uncertain. “It’s complicated. My wolf feels… drawn to you in a way I can’t explain. You’re not my fated mate, but the pull is so intense….” His voice trailed off, the weight of his admission hanging heavily in the air. “If I hadn’t stopped myself, I would have marked you. That’s why I walked away this morning; I couldn’t trust myself around you. And for what it’s worth…” He glanced at me briefly, his expression raw and conflicted. “I realize I handled it all wrong.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding as his words settled over me. Wolves were fiercely territorial, and their bonds were sacred. For his wolf to feel such an attachment to me—someone who wasn’t his fated mate—was more than unusual. It was unheard of.

The silence between us stretched, the hum of the car engine the only sound. My thoughts spun wildly, trying to make sense of what he’d said. Finally, I let out a long, shaky sigh, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe we should just forget about everything between us, Grayson. This… whatever it is, it’s exhausting. It feels like we’re trapped in an endless cycle of chaos and hurt. Aren’t you tired of it?”

Grayson’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. He didn’t say anything, but his silence spoke volumes. For the first time, I thought I saw something in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, maybe even hurt.

The air between us grew heavier with each passing mile, the tension suffocating. I tapped my foot nervously against the floor, desperate for a distraction, and then, without thinking, I blurted out, “Do you think vampires are real?”

Grayson blinked, startled by the abrupt change in topic. “No,” he replied flatly.

“Really?” I pressed, leaning back in my seat as I latched onto the conversation like a lifeline. “They have to be. I mean, werewolves exist, witches exist. Why not vampires? There’s probably some blood-sucking human out there right now.” I tilted my head, feigning thoughtfulness. “I wonder if they chant ‘blood, blood, blood’ when they’re thirsty.”

For the first time that night, a faint smile tugged at Grayson’s lips, softening the hard lines of his face. The sight of it made my chest ache, and I found myself laughing softly. The tension between us seemed to ease just a little.

Encouraged, I whispered, “I really want this to work because, as maddening as you are, I’ve come to the conclusion that I like you.” My cheeks burned as I added, with a playful smirk, “Unfortunately.”

His eyes flickered toward me briefly before returning to the road. I didn’t expect him to respond, but after a long pause, he murmured, “I want this to work too. I just… I don’t know how.”

Progress. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. “We’ll figure it out,” I began, but the words were barely out of my mouth when my phone buzzed.

Frowning, I reached into my bag and pulled it out. My stomach tightened when I saw the name on the screen: Darien. He never called without a reason. “Hello?” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Hey, little dove,” Darien said, his tone unusually serious. The way he said it sent a chill down my spine.

“What is it, Uncle Darien?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat.

There was a pause, and in that brief silence, dread coiled in my stomach.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about the killings,” he said finally. “Someone’s been targeting Alphas. Picking them off one by one.”

My heart thudded painfully. “Yes, I am aware. Who was attacked?”

His hesitation was the longest moment… (The passage ends abruptly here)