Chapter 206

Ava's POV

My wolf growled—the loudest I'd ever heard. The shift happened instantly, uncontrollably, ripping through me like a tidal wave. I had barely a moment to brace myself before it consumed me.

A powerful, wild, ancient pulse shot through my bones. Heat erupted in my veins, fire licking my skin, but there was no pain, only raw, unfiltered power surging through me. I let it take me.

With a snarl, I lunged at the vault door. My claws—sharper, deadlier than before—sank into the metal as if it were nothing. The thick steel groaned, vibrations rattling the ground. I felt a power twisting through me, a force beyond my wolf, something deeper, something other.

The vault shattered. A deafening boom tore through the chamber as the reinforced steel crumpled like paper. A shockwave blasted outward, sending debris flying. Dust and smoke choked the dim light.

Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the power vanished. The force drained from me like water through my fingers. My body buckled under the sudden loss, muscles seizing, bones snapping back. My claws retracted, my fur receded, burning my skin, and my limbs shook violently as I was forced back into human form. I barely caught myself before hitting the ground.

Gasping, my vision spun. My lungs felt hollow, my limbs like dead weight. The loss of power left a gaping void, but I wouldn't let it consume me. Not now.

I pushed myself up on trembling arms, my mind already on the only thing that mattered—my father. Through the settling dust, I saw him slumped against my mother, his skin ashen, his breathing weak. His body sagged in the restraints, the cursed silver still eating at him.

I forced myself to my feet, ignoring the trembling in my legs. "Father—"

I stumbled forward, reaching him as my mother struggled to keep him upright. Blood streaked his shirt, the dark stains growing. My mother, her eyes wide, stripped off her suit jacket and thrust it toward me.

"Put this on," she said quickly, leaving no room for argument.

I barely registered the fabric as I slipped it on, the warmth grounding me enough to push forward.

"We need to get him up," I said, already reaching for his arm.

My father groaned, his head lolling. "Ava…" His voice was a whisper.

"I'm here," I said firmly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, bearing his weight. "We're getting you out of here."

My mother moved quickly, taking his other side. "We need to move fast. That poison is still spreading."

He coughed, but I could feel him fighting to stay conscious.

"We need a counter," I said, breathless, adjusting my grip. "Nightshade and wolfsbane. You said it could neutralize the poison."

My father nodded weakly, his breathing labored. "Damien… he wouldn't have left me without making sure… There might be… something. Hidden. Close."

My mother and I exchanged a look.

"He wouldn't have taken the risk," she murmured. "If the poison was his failsafe, he would have ensured it couldn't be reversed. But if Luther's right…"

"Then there's an antidote somewhere," I finished, "but we don't have time to search the entire compound. Grayson's friend is a witch. She can do a spell to stop the spread, then we can find it. Damien said we have only twenty minutes. This place is probably going to blow up. We need to get out of here."

My mother nodded, tightening her grip as we moved, dragging his weight between us. My legs trembled, my breath came in sharp gasps, but we pushed forward.

The hallway stretched ahead, dim and eerily silent except for the low hum of factory machines. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. Bodies littered the floor—wolves and men alike, their lifeless forms sprawled in unnatural angles. No survivors. Only our ragged breathing and the relentless drone of the machines filled the void.

I swallowed down the nausea and kept moving. We had no time to grieve, no time to think about the carnage. The only thing that mattered was getting my father out.

Finally, we reached an exit. Relief surged, then dread. The door was locked.

I turned to my mother, chest heaving. "I don't have the strength to break this down."

She didn't hesitate. With a swift movement, she unhooked my father, supporting him long enough for me to lower him gently to the ground. His body sagged, his breathing shallow, but his eyes—still filled with pain, still heavy with something unspoken—locked onto mine.

My mother stepped forward, inspecting the lock. "It's a padlock," she muttered. Her claws extended, gleaming in the dim light. "I can break it."

She struck hard. Metal groaned under her blows as she slashed and hammered at it, the sound echoing through the empty hallway.

Behind me, my father let out a ragged breath. "Ava…"

I turned quickly, shaking my head. "Don't talk. We're getting you out of here."

He coughed. "I'm sorry," he rasped. "For everything… I—"

I clenched my jaw, eyes burning. "Stop," I whispered. "Not now. Just hold on."

He shook his head weakly, his hand twitching. "I—"

A sharp whirring noise cut through the air. I whipped around, my heart lurching as the machines hummed louder, the sound rising, vibrating through the walls.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice barely a breath.

My father swallowed hard, his gaze flickering toward the heavy pipes. "We're out of time," he rasped. "This place is about to erupt."

Panic shot through me like ice. I turned to my mother. "Hurry!"

"I'm hitting it as fast as I can!" she shouted, her claws slamming into the lock. Sparks flew, metal screeched—but it wasn't giving way fast enough.

I clenched my fists, forcing down the rising fear. We had minutes—maybe seconds—before everything went up in flames.

My mother's claws struck the padlock again, harder this time, and it snapped open. She pulled it off, throwing it aside. Without hesitation, she shoved the door open.

"Get him on his feet!" My mother's voice was tight with urgency, her eyes wild as she rushed back to us.

I knelt beside my father, my heart racing as I helped him up, his body trembling. "Come on. Just a little more," I whispered, my breath ragged.

My father's face twisted in agony, but he leaned on me, pushing through the pain. The heat from the factory was unbearable, licking at our skin. I could feel the pressure building, the air thick with the promise of destruction.

The walls groaned—louder now. The foundation trembled beneath our feet.

"We have to move faster," my mother said, her voice low and frantic as she dragged us toward the door.

With every step, I felt the air growing hotter, the ground shaking more violently. I was barely holding my father up, my strength failing, but we had no choice.

We were almost there. I could feel the weight of the factory behind us, the air thick with the scent of gasoline, metal, and blood. My father's breathing was shallow, weak, but he was still alive, still fighting.

Then it happened. A deafening roar shook the air, followed by a violent tremor that sent me stumbling. Then the world around us exploded.