Chapter 237

Grayson’s POV

“Why did you let me heat up all that food? Why did you let me follow you when you knew meeting her would reveal all this?”

Evelyn sat beside me in the backseat, her gaze fixed on the rustling leaves outside. Silent since we left, her expression remained unreadable. My question finally elicited a sigh; she tilted her head slightly.

“Because I wanted to see my mother,” she said simply. “And I wasn’t in the mood to argue about you tagging along.”

My gaze snapped to hers in genuine surprise. That wasn’t one of the answers I’d expected.

“If you wanted to see her,” I countered, “then why were you so hostile?”

A bitter smile touched her lips as she finally turned. “Because that’s how it’s always been. Some dynamics never change. They aren’t supposed to.”

I let her words hang in the silence, their weight pressing down between us.

“Why didn’t you ever tell Ava about any of this?” I asked. “That she has another whole family outside the Pierces?”

Evelyn’s sharp breath and slight headshake as she leaned back against the seat answered me. “It was already hard enough thinking I'd failed the Pierces—the only people who ever made me feel like myself, who I could relate to—when one of my daughters was stolen and I believed Ava was the wrong twin. But then, I saw my mother in her.” Her voice wavered, the carefully constructed armor cracking. “And I didn’t want my daughter to become my mother. Or my sister.”

I studied her—the tension in her jaw, the exhaustion in her eyes. I couldn’t believe I was engaging with Evelyn Pierce for a second time today, but something about her manner now felt…less guarded, less cruel. As if, for once, she wasn’t speaking as Evelyn Pierce, the woman feared by so many, but as something…more human.

“So everything you’ve done to Ava…” I began, searching her expression. “Everything you put her through…was that all your way of trying to stop history from repeating itself?”

She gave a humorless laugh. “I only wanted what I thought was best for my daughter.” Her gaze dropped to her lap, her fingers tightening. “And I never stopped trying to find Crystal. I searched for years. But unfortunately, it’s too late. I would be a fool to think she’ll ever see herself as my daughter now.”

Her voice softened. “And Ava…she hates me.”

“I guess I was so focused on making sure Ava didn’t turn into my mother,” she continued, “that I ended up becoming her instead. A horrible mother, just like she was to me and my sister.” She exhaled shakily. “Because she never acted like a mother. She was more of a playmate. There were no punishments for Rosa’s reckless behaviors until she moved to Italy and thrust herself into a dangerous world that could get her killed. And I spent my entire life resenting her for it.”

The car engine roared to life, breaking the silence. The hum of tires filled the space between us as I turned away, instinctively pulling out my phone. No messages, no missed calls. Nothing urgent. Yet I hesitated before pocketing it.

Maybe it was exhaustion, the weight of what we’d learned, or maybe—just maybe—it was the first time I was seeing Evelyn Pierce for who she truly was.

I met her gaze. “Maybe you should tell Ava that.”

She didn't react at first, her expression carefully blank, but I pressed on. “You might have lost Crystal the moment she was born,” I said quietly. “But you still have a chance with one of your children. And maybe, while you’re at it, let your mother meet her. Because whether you like it or not, she’s still a part of Ava.”

Evelyn studied me, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she exhaled, tilting her head slightly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be full of hate?” she asked, a hint of a smile in her tone.

I didn’t return it. Instead, I leaned back, exhaling slowly. “I met Ava Pierce.”

That was all I said. That was all that needed to be said.

She didn’t respond. Neither of us spoke. The silence stretched as the car moved, but my mind wasn’t on Evelyn anymore. It was on Raina’s words, her warning:

“The essence has made Ava its host, and it won’t leave her. But if she doesn’t learn to control it, it will eat away at her from the inside until there is nothing left.”

I had no illusions about what that meant. This wasn’t just about Ava possessing power—this was about something alive inside her. Something dangerous. Something that, if left unchecked, would consume her completely.

I turned to Evelyn. “Is there some kind of manual or handbook for this? Something Ava can use to learn how to control whatever the hell this power is?”

Evelyn gave a short, humorless laugh. “A manual?” she repeated, shaking her head. “You think there’s a guidebook for something like this?”

I didn’t answer. I just waited.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not that simple. What she has inside her—it’s not like the abilities of an ordinary werewolf. It’s not even something I fully understand. It’s a force, something old, something that was never meant to belong to her. And it’s fighting to claw its way to the surface.”

Evelyn continued, “That’s the only glimpse I’ve seen of it—like at the ball and when she broke us out of the vault. I never had the chance to understand what the essence truly was. I never let myself learn more about it because, for the longest time, I thought it was gone with Crystal.” Her expression darkened, and she turned away, staring out the window. “This conversation is better had with Luther.”

“If only he would wake up,” I finished for her.

She remained silent.

I let out a slow breath, my fingers tapping against my knee. At least I knew Damien couldn’t gain more power from Ava than he already had. That was something. That meant I could focus on the real problem—the curse.

Finally getting my wolf had to be my main priority.

My gaze drifted outside, watching the headlights illuminate the road. It was late, the moon hidden behind thick clouds, the night unusually still.

Too still.

A prickle ran down my spine. I shifted, sitting straighter.

Evelyn caught the movement, her eyes narrowing. “What?”

I didn’t answer. I listened. Something wasn’t right. Then, I felt it. The air changed. A presence. A pressure. The kind of silence that preceded an ambush. The kind of silence that meant we weren’t alone.

I barely had time to react before a blur of movement shot from the trees—fast, too fast—slamming into the car, sending us careening off the road. The driver cursed, yanking the wheel as tires screeched. I caught a glimpse of glowing eyes through the shattered window before we spun, metal groaning as the car crashed through the underbrush, coming to a violent halt.

For a moment, there was only my breathing, the sharp scent of gasoline. Then—another hit. This time, the roof buckled inward as something landed on top of it.

Evelyn moved first, shoving the door open and stepping out with practiced ease. She barely made it a foot before shifting mid-stride, her body twisting, fur bursting across her skin. A sleek, dark wolf landed where she’d been standing, growling low. I was already moving, fingers curling around my gun as I stepped onto the dirt, the cold night air biting.

Another growl. Then another. Shapes moved in the darkness, eyes glowing, bodies low to the ground as they circled. We were surrounded.

One of the wolves lunged. I didn’t hesitate. I fired—precise, controlled. The bullet hit its mark, forcing it back with a pained snarl. But I knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop them. Not all of them.

Evelyn was a blur of movement, tearing through the closest wolf before it could reach me. Her claws raked across its side, sending it howling before she spun, teeth snapping at another. I adjusted my aim, stepping back as more wolves emerged.

Too many. Another lunged. I twisted, using the weight of my body to slam the butt of my gun into its skull. It yelped, staggering back, but another took its place almost immediately. I fired again.

Evelyn snarled, tearing into another wolf’s throat. But for every one that fell, more kept coming. They weren’t just attacking. They were hunting. And we were the prey.

A shadow moved in my periphery. Too late—I felt the impact before I saw it, the weight of a wolf slamming into me, knocking the gun from my grip as I hit the ground hard. Teeth snapped inches from my throat. I twisted, driving my elbow into its ribs, using its momentum to roll it off. But another was already there, its claws raking across my arm.

I grabbed my knife, plunging it into the wolf’s neck. It yelped, jerking away, but the relief was short-lived. Because the moment I staggered to my feet—another wolf slammed into my side, sending me crashing into a tree. The force knocked the breath from my lungs, my vision blurring. I barely had time to process it before something else lunged—a massive shape, bigger than the others. Stronger.

And as I braced myself, muscles coiled, weapon ready—a single thought registered. This wasn’t just an ambush. This was an execution.