Chapter 224

Grayson’s POV

I watched, silent and still. The word “sister” hung in the air, charged and raw. Ava clung to me, her grip fierce, but I offered no comfort. This wasn't a time for reassurances; this was a reckoning.

Ava’s breath hitched; the truth slammed into her, wave after wave. I let her drown in it, not out of cruelty, but because she needed to understand the game.

Crystal reveled in it, her amusement sharp, a predator toying with its prey. Damien was worse—he controlled the room with a flick of his wrist, a smirk, a glance. He treated Ava like a fragile doll, encouraging Crystal’s venom.

I hated him. But I waited. I was a ghost at the edge of their war.

Finally, I pulled Ava away, from Damien, from Crystal, from the nightmare. But Damien had anticipated this. His smirk widened as he triggered the arrows.

My body moved before my mind. I shielded Ava, an arrow grazing my shoulder. It didn't matter; she did.

Ava gasped, trembling. "Stay with me," I ordered, my voice low, for her ears only. I'd already activated the device on my arm.

Chaos erupted. My men, dressed in black, stormed in, weapons raised. Damien's men met them, a well-rehearsed counterattack. Gunfire filled the room, a deafening symphony of violence.

Another hit, this time in my side, but Ava was my only concern. I moved her behind me, shielding her as I fought.

"Grayson—" she whispered, her voice laced with shock.

"I've got you," I assured her, scanning the room. I glimpsed Damien escaping, a smug smirk on his face. He'd orchestrated this.

"Fuck," I hissed, finding Crystal gone too.

We fought our way toward the exit, my men providing cover. Ava stumbled.

"Keep going," I urged, my grip unwavering.

We were almost there. Then, a gunshot. Too close. Ava cried out.

I spun, firing my weapon as one of Damien’s men aimed at her. He fell, but another bullet tore through my side.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the pain, focused only on getting Ava out.

We burst into the night air, my vision blurring, my breaths shallow. But I had her.

Ava stared at the blood soaking my jacket. "Grayson," she breathed, panic in her voice.

"I'm fine," I lied. She hesitated, then stepped back. But my knees buckled.

I swayed, and Ava caught me before I fell. Her claws extended, tearing through my clothes, her eyes locking onto my wounds. Her breath hitched.

"Grayson—"

"I'm fine," I repeated automatically.

"I am not in the mood for your bullshit right now," she said, her voice laced with quiet fury.

Her hands trembled as she touched my wounds. Even though she didn't want to, she still cared.

"Can you stand?" she asked, all business now.

Pain shot through me as I tried to stand. Ava's fingers dug into my arm.

"Where's your car?" she demanded.

"I told him to leave," I admitted.

She muttered something, then closed her eyes. When she opened them, her gaze was sharp.

"Isabella is getting Ricardo," she said. Then, her eyes widened. "Your phone—I don't have mine. Where's yours?"

"I don't have it," I replied.

"Damn it, Grayson! You're not being helpful!"

Despite the blood, the pain, the chaos, I smiled. She saw it.

"What the hell is so amusing?" she snapped. "You're bleeding out!"

"You're... you're still you," I started, then stopped.

She must have seen it in my eyes; something unreadable flickered before she scowled.

"We need to get you out of here," she said, her gaze intense. "Because you and I have a realm to stop from crumbling. Together."