Chapter 239

Grayson’s POV

I was wrong. It wasn't an execution—or, it couldn't have been if I could still feel the pounding in my head as I pushed myself up. My limbs ached as if dragged through fire and ice; my senses slowly sharpened as I fought off the disorientation.

I blinked open my eyes, expecting to see Evelyn—we had been attacked together—but instead, I saw Rickon lying still, unconscious. His chest rose and fell steadily, but he remained motionless. How did he get here?

A rustling sound diverted my attention. Maria was there, still and quiet, then Luther, his massive frame undisturbed in an unnatural sleep. Evelyn was next, then Elaine, Isabella, and finally—Ava.

The moment my eyes found her, the headache became insignificant. Or perhaps it didn't, but my focus shifted completely. Nothing else mattered except reaching Ava. I pushed myself up, shaking off the sluggishness in my limbs as I moved toward her. At least I wasn't numb this time.

Then, a sharp crack in the eerie silence: a light, mocking, familiar voice. "Somehow, I knew you would be the first to awaken."

I paused, scanning the room, realizing something—Crystal wasn't here. Her voice surrounded me, yet she was nowhere among the unconscious bodies. I didn't respond, didn't waste time searching for her. She wasn't important now. Ava was.

"You know," Crystal's saccharine voice—a sound like nails on a chalkboard—continued, "you and I have never really had a chance to talk. Actually, we've never officially met."

I reached Ava, kneeling beside her. My fingers pressed against her pulse point; the steady beat beneath my touch released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. She was breathing, alive. I carefully repositioned her to relieve pressure on her stomach. She looked so peaceful, it was unnerving.

"I'm Crystal, by the way," she continued, unfazed by my silence. "Not sure if I can be called Crystal Cross. I usually used Myers for appearances. Damien never… well, he never actually adopted me, so it's just Crystal. In case you needed a recap, I'm your precious Ava's long-lost sister."

I ignored her. My attention remained fixed on Ava, studying her face, the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Crystal sighed dramatically. "Oh, you really do love her, don't you?" A light laugh escaped her. "Seems like only yesterday she made a scene to get you to rescue her from that marriage with Dylan. Ah, how time flies."

I still refused to acknowledge her.

"Aren't you curious how we got you all here?"

Finally, I turned toward the source of her voice. My patience was already strained; if she thought she could toy with me, she was mistaken.

"If you were going to kill us, you wouldn't have kept us here," I said coldly. "So skip the theatrics and tell me why we're here."

Crystal hummed thoughtfully. "Come now, Grayson. If circumstances were different, I could have been your mate, you know?" Her voice remained teasing, but a sharper edge underlay it. "I heard you were looking for me for a while."

Silence. I didn't take the bait.

Crystal sighed, this time with clear frustration. "Fine. Be that way." A pause. "Then I suppose I'll just wait for everyone else to wake up. That's when the real fun begins."

I clenched my jaw, the urge to find her and end this game itching beneath my skin, but I forced myself to remain focused. Ava was my priority. Always.

Minutes passed in heavy silence, the air thick with anticipation. Then, slowly, a shift. A breath. A slight twitch of fingers. The others were starting to stir.

Evelyn's fingers curled, her brow furrowing before her eyelids fluttered open. She groaned softly. Isabella inhaled sharply, her eyes snapping open as if emerging from a nightmare. One by one, they awoke.

Elaine stirred, confusion flickering across her face. Maria gasped, instinctively reaching for her necklace. Luther, however, remained still, trapped under the sleep spell.

Rickon groaned, rubbing his forehead as he sat up. His gaze swept the room before landing on me. "What the hell…?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

I ignored him, my attention snapping back to Ava as she sighed softly. Her fingers twitched, her breathing deepening, becoming more aware. Then, her eyelids fluttered open.

I exhaled, a tension releasing in my chest. Ava blinked up at me, dazed, confused. I saw the questions forming before she spoke.

"Ava," I said, my voice low and steady.

She swallowed, nodding slightly. "I'm fine," she said, her voice softer than usual. Then, confusion. "What's happening?"

I didn't answer immediately. I glanced at the others, all slowly regaining their bearings, realization dawning on their faces.

"We were taken," I said simply. "And Crystal—and by extension, Damien—is playing games."

Ava's brows furrowed, her gaze darting around the room. "Where is she?"

"Not here," I muttered. "But she's watching. And she wants something."

"She always does," Evelyn said darkly, her eyes still slightly unfocused but filled with her usual steely determination.

"She said she's waiting for everyone to wake up," I added, "for the 'real fun' to begin."

Rickon chuckled humorlessly. "That doesn't sound ominous at all."

Ava pushed herself up, and instinctively, I reached out, steadying her. She didn't protest. Instead, she glanced at Luther's unmoving body, her expression tightening.

"He's still under the spell," she murmured, sighing and scanning everyone's faces before her eyes settled on me. "When does it ever end? If he wants to kill us, why doesn't he just do it?"

Maria, now fully awake, sat up, frustration twisting her expression. "Well, I'm not waiting around to find out," she announced, shaking off the last of her grogginess. "And I still can't believe I was bested by the likes of you."

With an indignant huff, she rose, her chin tilted high, arrogance radiating from her. She closed her eyes, her lips moving in silent incantation as she lifted her hands, fingers twitching. Nothing happened.

Confusion flickered across her face, but she masked it quickly. She tried again, her words sharper, more urgent—yet still, nothing.

"What in the—" She snapped her eyes open, her brow furrowing. Uncertainty, something unfamiliar, crept into her usually composed features. "It's like I can't feel my magic. Like there's a block."

Silence settled over the room. Then—

"I can't feel my wolf," Rickon said from the corner, his voice low and tense.

A ripple spread through the group; murmurs of realization filled the space as, one by one, they reached the same unsettling conclusion. Everyone's wolf was gone.

"This is just great," Isabella snapped, frustration laced with anger. "I can't believe Ricardo right now!"

I turned to look at her, but before I could speak, Ava did.

"His men attacked the security detail you hired for me," she said, her voice steady, but I detected an underlying edge. "And apparently, Damien got to him too."

I said nothing.

"How did he get you?" Her words were barely registered before Evelyn spoke, her tone clipped, her expression grim. "We were attacked by wolves. His wolves, I believe."

She crouched, brushing a hand through Luther's gray hair, pushing it away from his forehead. The gentleness of the movement felt weighted. I followed her gaze, and when I turned back, I caught an unreadable expression flicker across Ava's face. She was staring at her parents—at Evelyn, tending to Luther as I'd never seen her before. I opened my mouth to speak when a sound rang through the space, sharp and taunting.

Damien's voice.

It echoed around us, filling the room with unmistakable triumph. "Ladies and gentlemen," he drawled, amusement lacing his words. "You are all awake. Now we can begin."