Chapter 106

Grayson’s POV

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. Her eyes, wide and filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher—hope, frustration, or disbelief—locked onto mine. She was clearly processing my statement.

I knew exactly what I had said. It wasn't a decision made lightly. I'd solidified it years ago, a vow made in dark moments when I swore I'd never become my father. Nothing would change my mind.

"Not even one?"

Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, yet a hopeful undertone twisted something deep within me. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down like a crown I wore daily.

I'd heard her say those words before, unintentionally. While unconscious, teetering on life's edge, her whispered confessions had reached me in ways she couldn't comprehend. She'd spoken of a different life, quieter, filled with hope, love—and children.

I'd intended to address it, but everything intervened: the killings, the attacks, the endless crises. Honestly, I'd used these distractions as an excuse. I'd been scared.

For the first time in years, I'd felt true fear. But I'd faced it, confronted it, buried it. I remained Grayson, the man who commanded armies, wielded influence like a weapon, and could bend the world to his will. Yet, here I was, vulnerable to the one person who could unravel me effortlessly.

"I've thought about it," I admitted, my voice low. "More than I care to. But no, Ava. Not even one."

Her brows furrowed, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Why?"

I chuckled bitterly, leaning back in my chair. "Because, in many ways, I've already become the man my father wanted. The power, control, sacrifices… it's all there, whether I like it or not. And I'll be damned if I bring a child into this world to endure the same hell I did."

"You're not your father," she said firmly, as if convincing herself as much as me.

I looked at her, her words heavy on my tongue. She meant well, but didn't understand. "Ava…" I sighed, rubbing my face. "Can we not do this? Please, let's drop it."

Her expression hardened. Then, sharply, she said, "There you go again."

I frowned, my patience waning. "What are you talking about?"

"Sabotaging this," she said, gesturing between us. "Things are good, Grayson. Better than good. But every time we reach this point, where we could move forward, you pull back. You push me away."

"That's not what I'm doing," I said, harsher than intended. "I'm being honest. I don't want to give you false hope."

She shook her head, anger flashing. "False hope? You don't even know what hope looks like, do you?"

I stiffened. "Careful, Ava."

Her voice didn't increase in volume, but in intensity. "No, you need to hear this. You never expected this with me, did you? You never thought you'd let someone in. But look at us. Look at what we've built. And you're telling me it's impossible to consider more? To even think about a future where—"

"No," I said sharply, cutting her off. "Nothing will change my mind. I don't want children. Not now, not ever. And honestly, why are we arguing? It's not like you've had luck with your parents either."

The words were instantly regretted.

Her face fell, her anger replaced by hurt. "Excuse me?" she said, her voice trembling.

I sighed, cursing myself. "Ava, I didn't mean—"

"No, go ahead," she said, standing abruptly. "Tell me what you meant, Grayson. Since you seem to think my past disqualifies me from wanting something better."

"That's not what I said," I snapped, standing to face her. "Don't twist my words."

"You said it's not like I had any luck with my parents," she retorted, her voice rising. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't see why you'd want to be a parent after everything you've been through," I said, frustration boiling over. "Why risk putting a child through that?"

"Because I know what it's like to grow up without love, to be molded into someone I wasn't," she said, her voice breaking. "And I'd do everything to ensure my child never felt that way. That's why."

Her words hit hard, but I refused to yield. "And what if that's not enough, Ava? What if, no matter what, they end up like us? Angry, broken, fighting battles not their own?"

Her eyes glistened, but she held her ground. "Then we try. We fight for something better. Isn't that what we've been doing? Fighting for a life not defined by the past?"

I looked away. "You don't get it," I muttered.

"Then make me understand," she challenged, stepping closer. "Because right now, it feels like you're just scared. Scared of something you haven't even considered."

"I'm not scared," I said coldly. "I'm realistic. And I won't gamble with something this important. I won't risk bringing a child into this world just to prove a point."

Her shoulders slumped, but then she said, quietly but firmly, "You're not your father, Grayson. And I'm not my parents. We're not them."

I clenched my fists, refusing to be swayed. "It doesn't matter," I said. "My decision is final."

She stared at me, searching my eyes, but I offered nothing.

"Then I don't know what we're doing here," she said, her voice hollow.

Her words hung like a death knell. Something inside cracked, but I didn't show it. I couldn't.

"Neither do I," I whispered.

She turned away, slowly, deliberately. For the first time since meeting her, I felt like I was losing her.

The dinner was ruined. The night was ruined. Watching her walk away, tense and deliberate, I felt I'd ruined something far greater.

I sat heavily, running my hands through my hair. The air was oppressively quiet, except for the wind rattling the windows. Then, my phone buzzed. Maria.

I sighed, knowing this wouldn't be good. She rarely called unless urgent. Weeks ago, I'd contacted her about my flickering connection to my wolf—a feeling of being…off.

I answered. "Maria."

She wasted no time on pleasantries. "I found something."

Her calm, clipped voice held an edge that quickened my pulse. "What did you find?"

A long pause. Then, low and heavy, she said, "Grayson, I think you're cursed."

The words hung, cold and foreign.

I swallowed hard. "What are you talking about?"

"This curse has existed for centuries, Grayson, and it's not just you," she continued solemnly. "The Blackwoods. Your entire bloodline is cursed."