Chapter 133

Ava’s POV

The plane's exact location had been found—some isolated island not even on the map. Two bodies had been recovered, but neither belonged to Rickon or Grayson. I held my breath as Liam relayed the details. Search teams confirmed Rickon had been on the flight, but neither he nor Grayson had been sighted. Still, something deep down told me Grayson was alive. It was inexplicable, but my connection to him felt too strong to be wrong.

The only problem was a nagging feeling—a premonition—that something bad was about to happen. However, given the hints the Fearsome Threesome had dropped, I couldn't determine if the looming danger targeted me or Grayson.

I just wanted him found and brought home.

Home.

Yet, all I did was sit calmly, waiting for the desperately needed news.

Isabella, on the other hand, was far from calm.

"I can't believe he would do this," she snapped after fifteen minutes of silent pacing. "I seriously cannot believe it."

"They didn't find their bodies," I replied calmly, though my stomach churned. "That means they're alive. They probably just moved from the crash site."

"Or they both obliterated mid-air," she huffed, flopping onto my bed. Her hair spilled around her like a fiery halo. "Why did I have to be mated to someone as troublesome as Rickon? Why couldn't I be mated to a caterer or a painter, or someone less…chaotic?"

I lay down beside her, our heads almost touching as we stared at the ceiling. "I don't know why, but I can feel that Grayson is alive."

"Well, I can't feel anything except rage," she muttered. "But I do know one thing—I'm going to throttle Rickon when he gets back."

"When he gets back, Bels. They'll find them." I turned to look at her. "Your story with Rickon hasn't even begun yet. Maybe when he returns, you'll let yourself write the first chapters."

She sighed, heavy with apprehension. "It's just so complicated, Lilian. I feel like if I give in to the pull, I'm setting myself up for heartbreak. And you know how badly I handle heartbreak. If it happens with my fated mate, my happy ending will just feel—"

"Over," I finished for her, and she nodded.

Silence stretched between us, the weight of our thoughts filling the space. Finally, I spoke again. "I didn't exactly luck out with my own fated mate, even though I thought he would be my happily ever after. But then I met Grayson, and I felt… I felt for him what I've never felt for anyone."

"That's the problem, Lilian," she said softly. "I want to feel what you feel…but for my fated mate, not someone else."

"Then maybe you should give it a shot," I urged her. "If it doesn't work out, believe me—there's hope for something better. Even if it means bringing so much chaos into his life." The last part was more for myself, and I muttered it under my breath.

Isabella sat up, her eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

I sighed. "I just…can't stop thinking about what Elaine said. And I know it's true because it's the exact same thing I told Eliza. Ever since I met Grayson, I've disrupted his life. I'm the reason for the chaos and drama. What if he gets tired of it? Tired of me?"

"Oh, honey," Isabella said, exasperated. "How can you not see it? You've brought light into his life. You made him less of a whispered-about monster and more of a man. Why are you letting that bitter, moronic cousin of his plant these absurd thoughts in your head? Monsters don't want to be monsters, Lilian. You're giving him reasons not to be one."

I blinked, her words settling over me like a balm. "You really think that's true?"

"I know it's true," she said firmly. "You're good for him. And if you hadn't already found that jerk of a mate, I'd swear you were personally made for him."

Her words made me smile. "Thanks, Bels."

I heard my wolf growl, soft and irritated. "So, you believe her and not me?" she huffed in my mind.

I laughed, the sound making Isabella raise an eyebrow. "It's my wolf," I explained. "She's just being my wolf."

Sitting up, I steeled myself. "I know they're alive, and they'll be found. I just hope it's before something happens on that island. In the meantime, I say we distract ourselves."

"Good idea," Isabella said, sitting up as well. "I'll raid his bar and meet you back here."

I laughed. "No, dumbo. I have work tomorrow, and so do you. I was thinking we go check the hall setup for the ball. You know, the one that has to outshine whatever my mother planned."

Her eyes widened. "Oh." She ran a hand through her hair. "For a moment, I completely forgot about that."

"The ball or work?" I teased.

"Both," she grinned.

"You're impossible," I laughed, grabbing my phone. "Let's go."

I glanced at the screen, frowning as it glitched for a moment. Brushing it off, I checked for updates—still nothing. "Grayson Blackwood, you better be fine," I murmured.

Extending my hand to Isabella, I pulled her off the bed. Together, we headed to the grand hall.

The room buzzed with activity. Omegas moved with precision, decorating every corner with a stunning display of elegance. Chandeliers glimmered, draped in crystal strands. Tables were set with intricate arrangements of white lilies and gold accents. The sheer grandeur took my breath away.

"Wow," Isabella breathed, voicing my thoughts.

"Wow is right," I said, unable to tear my eyes away.

"It looks amazing, but…" Isabella turned to me. "How are we going to afford the food and everything else that comes with a ball? My budget's tight, and I doubt your parents are suddenly feeling generous, or have released your inheritance."

I rolled my eyes. "Luther and Evelyn Pierce made me work and earn my keep when I was still following their wishes. Now that I've 'become unhinged,' as my mother puts it? Not even close to happening."

She laughed. "Miracles can happen, you know."

"Not with them," I muttered. "But Grayson gave me a card—no limit. I haven't used it, and I didn't want it, but…I guess I don't have a choice."

I blinked at her, utterly confused. "What are you talking about? Main characters? How?"

She rolled her eyes as if I'd just asked her if the sun rose in the east. "Don't you read? This whole tale is centered around you and Grayson. And, like all the other men, Grayson is ridiculously rich. And you, like every other main character female, always have this thing about not wanting to touch the money. If I were written into your part, trust me, I'd be digging his gold shamelessly."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Shut up! Stop talking nonsense. I'm not the main character, and my life is definitely not some story." I started walking into the hall, throwing a cheeky look over my shoulder. "And if you're so keen on digging gold, Rickon is amazingly rich. Why haven't you gone after his money yet? Maybe you have a main character complex too."

"I thought you said this wasn't a story!" she called after me, her voice dripping with mock indignation. "And don't twist my words!"

I laughed harder, pulling out my phone absentmindedly. It had become a reflex to check for updates—anything, any news at all. That's when it happened again. That glitch. For a moment, the screen flickered, almost like static, before returning to normal.

Isabella, who had caught up to me by now, saw it too. She frowned, her eyebrows knitting together in that way she always did when overthinking. "What was that? Did you see it?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, it just started happening recently. I don't know what it is. Probably nothing."

She leaned closer, her gaze darting between my phone and my face. "Hmm…" Her expression sharpened. "You said Elaine used the exact same words you did, right? The ones about disrupting Grayson's life? What are the odds of that happening?"

My brain stalled for a second. She was right, and it wasn't the first time. Elaine had used the oddly specific phrase Crystal had used. Something clicked, hard and fast. My stomach twisted as I stared at my phone.

No. They couldn't have. They wouldn't.

But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. My blood turned cold.

I turned the phone in my hand, my fingers trembling slightly as I scrutinized it. My instincts screamed at me, and then I saw it. The coincidences weren't coincidences. I had a single thought in my head, one sentence that summed it all up.

But Isabella said it before I could.

"Those three little bitches…"