Chapter 146

Ava’s POV

Dylan had never kissed me. Not even on the day of our mating ceremony. That day, he had simply marked me—a cold, forced act, a reminder of fate's demands rather than genuine affection. And now, here he was, his lips on mine, and for a horrifying second, I froze in shock. Then disgust hit me like a tidal wave. I tried to push him away, shoving at his chest, but his grip tightened. Before I could do more, the decision was taken from me.

A flash of motion blurred past, and suddenly, Dylan was ripped away. I stumbled, falling hard as his hold broke. My eyes darted up to see him flying through the air before crashing into the far wall with a sickening thud. The sound echoed in the grand hall, silencing every conversation. Gasps erupted from the crowd; their collective shock was a tangible force pressing down on me.

The room's atmosphere shifted instantly. The air grew heavier, colder, as Grayson's fury took over. It was so intense, so raw, that the walls themselves seemed to tremble.

Scrambling to my feet, my heart pounded wildly. Crystal's shrill scream cut through the silence, grating on my ears as she ran to Dylan's crumpled form. My gaze snapped to Grayson, who was already advancing toward Dylan with deadly intent. His expression was terrifying; his anger so palpable it seemed to ripple through the space, choking the air.

"Grayson, stop!" I shouted, throwing myself between him and Dylan. My hands were outstretched, a futile barrier between the unstoppable force Grayson had become and Dylan, who still hadn't moved.

"Get out of my way, Ava," Grayson growled, his voice low and lethal.

"No." I stood my ground, trembling but firm.

Behind me, Crystal shrieked again. "Dylan's bleeding! Someone do something!"

Grayson didn't flinch. He took another step forward, his focus locked on me. His gray eyes were stormy with unrelenting rage. "Step aside," he commanded, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.

"Yes, Lilian, step aside!" Isabella's voice rang out, laced with vindictive glee.

I whipped my head toward her, glaring, before turning back to Grayson. My voice softened, pleading. "Grayson, please. Don't do this. Not here. Not like this."

He stopped, but his anger didn't diminish; it shifted, snapping directly at me. "Why?" he demanded. "Why are you defending him?"

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. "I'm not defending him," I said quietly. "But this isn't the place. Let's go outside. Please."

Crystal's panicked, hysterical voice rose behind me. "He's bleeding out! Someone help him!" I turned instinctively toward Dylan, but before I could take another step, Grayson's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. His grip was firm but not painful. His eyes bored into mine, cold and unyielding.

"If you don't want me to make sure Dylan's 'bleeding out' is the least of his problems," he said, his voice as sharp as steel, "then you'll come with me. Now."

I froze, feeling the weight of everyone's stares. My mind raced. I glanced at Isabella, her smug annoyance etched on her face, then at Eliza, who looked genuinely worried. Finally, my eyes landed on my father. For the first time in my life, I felt his psychic presence brush against mine. His voice echoed in my mind, steady and calm: 'Go.'

Crystal screamed again, her words fading as I made my decision. I looked at Dylan, broken bricks scattered around him, and then back at Grayson. His expression didn't waver; his demand was clear.

I nodded slowly, my hands trembling as I reached for his. His grip was firm, steady, a sharp contrast to the storm raging inside me. Without a word, I led him out of the hall, feeling every burning gaze on us as we passed through the heavy doors.

The moment we stepped outside, the cool night air slapped against my skin, sharp and sobering. It didn't ease the heaviness in my chest. I dropped his hand and turned to face him. My voice was barely a whisper.

"He kissed me," I said, the words catching in my throat. "He just did."

Grayson's jaw tightened, his fists curling into rigid knots. His eyes burned with fury. I could see it in the way his shoulders heaved with barely contained rage.

I closed my eyes, exhaling shakily. When I opened them again, his expression hadn't softened.

"Say something," I urged, my voice trembling.

For a long, tense moment, he didn't. He took a step closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, but not because I feared him—because I feared what he might do next.

"Why the hell is he in my house in the first place?" His voice was low, each word laced with venom. "And don't think for one second that he's getting away with touching you. He's going to pay for that. But what's even more infuriating," he growled, his gaze boring into me, "is that you keep defending him, Ava. Every single time."

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to yell back. Another shouting match would get us nowhere. I was exhausted.

"You did a really shitty thing, Grayson," I replied, my voice firm but quiet. "And you know it. You lied to me, shut me out completely. But you came back, and I'm still standing here, willing to let it go." My voice cracked, but I pushed on. "This isn't about Dylan. This isn't me defending him. This is me asking you to stop spilling blood when you don't have to. Please, Grayson. Just… stop. I can't keep fighting with you like this."

I watched the fury in his eyes falter, watched as the weight of my words settled over him. His chest rose and fell as he wrestled with his emotions. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, and the anger drained from his face.

When his eyes met mine again, they were softer, tinged with regret. He stepped closer and reached for me. I didn't fight it. His hand tilted my face up, his touch warm and grounding.

He didn't speak. He simply lowered his lips to mine, and I let out a shaky sigh before kissing him back. It was soft, fleeting, but enough to ease some of the tension.

When I pulled away, I looked up at him, my voice steady. "I need to go back inside and put an end to this night."

He nodded, his eyes lingering on mine. With one last glance, I turned and walked back inside.

The moment I stepped into the ballroom, chaos greeted me. Crystal was on me before I could register the scene. Her shrill voice cut through the heavy silence. "You slut! You did this to him!"

I barely noticed my father kneeling next to Dylan, or the eerie quiet that had fallen over the crowd. Every pair of eyes was glued to us, waiting for the next drama.

Crystal shoved me hard, her nails clawing at my arm as she snarled.

And then something inside me snapped. Before I could think, my wolf reacted. My hands shot out, shoving her back with a force even greater than the one I'd used on Elaine. The impact sent her flying across the hall.

She crashed into the display of glass decorations with a deafening smash. The sharp crack of shattering glass echoed, followed by the sickening sound of her body hitting the floor. Blood spread quickly across the polished tiles, glinting under the harsh lights.

The entire room froze. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the shards of glass scattered around her, my heart hammering. One question filtered through the shock: What the hell had I just done?