Chapter 136

Grayson’s POV

Alaric's words struck like thunder, leaving an eerie silence. My chest tightened; my instincts screamed that what I was about to hear would change everything. Without a word, I followed him deeper into the chamber, each step echoing against the cold stone walls.

The air grew heavy, thick with ancient tension. We stopped before a massive mural, its edges bathed in an otherworldly blue glow that pulsed like a heartbeat. The mural was intricate and dark, its center dominated by a shadowy figure blending with the surrounding chaos.

“This,” Alaric began, his voice low and deliberate, “is where the Blackwood legacy takes its darkest turn.”

I stepped closer, studying the intricate carvings. The figure stood surrounded by wolves, their heads bowed not in reverence, but in unmistakable fear. The surrounding forest was aflame, the trees twisted and scorched, their branches like skeletal hands.

“What happened?” I whispered.

Alaric's usual smirk was gone, replaced by a solemn expression. “As you know, Grayson, no lineage is without blemishes. Even the strongest have weaknesses.” He paused.

“The Blackwood lineage,” he continued, his tone grave, “became a beacon of unity and strength, keeping the wolves together under a shared vision of peace. But power,” his voice sharpened, “corrupts even the noblest intentions. And so it did.”

He gestured to a section where the shadowy figure stood atop a mountain of bones, its claws dripping with blood. The wolves, once united, now turned against each other, their snarls and howls frozen in chaotic disarray.

“One of your ancestors,” Alaric said, his voice laced with disdain, “decided being Alpha King wasn't enough. He saw himself not as a protector, but as a ruler—above all, even the goddess who created us.”

His words echoed Maria's, but I held my tongue.

Alaric moved his hand across the mural, guiding my eyes to a figure I recognized as my ancestor, Darius Blackwood. “Darius Blackwood was arrogant beyond measure. He openly questioned the Moon Goddess, mocking the idea of bowing to what he called a ‘superficial female.’ He believed women inherently inferior, and the idea that his power came from a goddess was an affront to his pride.”

The carvings depicted Darius, tall and defiant, his sneer etched in stone. Wolves cowered or snarled around him.

“The Moon Goddess,” Alaric whispered, “did not let such blasphemy go unpunished. But her response wasn't anger—it was a lesson. She descended, cloaked in light, and cursed Darius. Since he believed women inferior, his survival would depend on one. She decreed his lineage would be bound to their fated mates, chosen by her. They could only find true strength through this bond. Without their mate, their power would diminish, leaving them vulnerable and weak. This curse was never to be spoken of.”

“So this curse,” I said slowly, “is why…”

“Why you are just now learning of it?” Alaric finished. “Yes. The curse ensured the truth couldn't be simply told—it had to be discovered through experience and suffering. Even your father couldn't tell you. He wasn't allowed to.”

Alaric's voice became more urgent. “Darius, desperate, sought to break the curse. He turned to a pack known for their connection to the Moon Goddess—a pack with unparalleled healing abilities. A pack now led by…”

“Luther Pierce,” I said, the pieces falling into place. “That’s why they’re the best healers. That’s why Ava is so good.”

Alaric nodded. “Even they couldn't undo the Moon Goddess's decree. But they struck a pact with Darius. They promised that, in time, a wolf of pure blood from their lineage would be born—a wolf who could bind the Alpha King's bloodline and break the curse. But there was a condition: the Alpha King's descendant would have to find her, recognize her, and form the bond willingly. The pact passed down through generations.”

He moved to another section, depicting two infants. “By the time you were born, Grayson, the curse peaked. And when Evelyn Pierce conceived, the prophecy began. You were the descendant chosen to undo it before your line vanished. But fate was cruel; she was pregnant with twins, and the essence wasn't meant to be shared. The Pierces faced an impossible choice: save one twin by transferring the pure blood entirely, or lose both.”

I stared at the carving, my chest tightening. One baby glowed faintly, etched with light and divine energy; the other lay shadowed and fragile.

“They chose to save one,” Alaric said, his voice heavy. “The essence was transferred into one twin. But the other…” He hesitated, his expression softening, “…she lived, but would never be whole—not like her sister.”

I didn't understand. If Ava was the surviving twin, wasn't she my fated mate? But what about the other twin? Did Ava even know she had a twin?

Alaric smiled faintly. “I sense your confusion, Grayson, but I can't clear the fog entirely. The story isn't finished.”

He gestured to a section showing a child surrounded by shadow, above which was a question mark. “That night, one of the twins was stolen.”

“Who took her?” I asked desperately.

Alaric shook his head. “That remains a mystery.” He paused. “The stolen twin was the one chosen by the Moon Goddess, the one the essence was transferred to. She is alive, but her whereabouts are unknown.”

My face drained of color. “And Ava?”

“She was the weaker twin,” Alaric said gently. “She survived, but she was never the right one. Luther and Evelyn raised her, trying to shape her into what they'd lost. But she could never truly be what they wanted.”

My head spun. The room felt suffocating. That's why Evelyn and Luther hated me—the curse had taken one daughter and left them grasping at the fragments of the other.

But Alaric wasn't finished.

“Fate is cruel,” he sighed. “I believe you feel a connection to Ava because her sister's essence lingers within her. It's a shadow of what was meant to be. But Ava Pierce is not the one made for you.”

My wolf growled in protest. I didn't want to hear this. But I felt the truth.

“That’s why marking her didn’t undo the curse,” I said, the realization hitting me hard.

Alaric nodded grimly. “The bond is strong, yes, but incomplete. Ava holds your heart, but she wasn't made for you. Her sister—the twin who was taken—is your true fated mate.”

The words gutted me. Ava wasn't my fated mate. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't.

“And being with her means…” I couldn’t finish.

Alaric didn’t hesitate. “That the curse will remain unbroken. No matter what you do, it will bind you. And if you're not careful… it will destroy you.”