Chapter 29

Grayson’s POV

Little Dove? What kind of ridiculous nickname was that? And, more importantly, why was she so familiar with the uncle of the man who’d abused her? Irritation surged, gripping my chest. I knew exactly who Damien Cross was.

I’d done my research on Dylan—who’d just walked in—when I deemed him worthy enough to align with. When I first met Ava, I never thought I’d end up involved with people I considered so beneath me. Yet, here I was, right in the middle of it.

Dylan’s eyes locked onto Ava as soon as he walked in, hardening with every step he took toward her. But I had to give her credit—she didn’t cower or flinch. No, she glared right back, full of fire, while the woman glued to his side—the same one he’d cheated on Ava with—smirked as if she’d won the lottery.

I wrapped my arm around Ava’s waist, pulling her closer. “The entrance is getting a little crowded with desperation. Let’s go inside.”

Damien chuckled softly, then quickly covered it with a cough. My dislike for him ticked down a notch. Maybe he wasn’t as insufferable as the rest of them. As I guided Ava away, I didn’t miss the way the mistress’s smile faltered, her confidence crumbling.

Ava groaned beside me, clearly feeling the tension too. “Why is the universe doing this to me?” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Maybe it’s because you agreed to let someone call you Little Dove.”

She laughed. “You have a split personality, you know that? One minute you’re scowling like you want to burn the whole room down, the next you’re defending me against my parents, and it's a cute nickname. Also, stop glaring at people—well, except my parents…and Dylan. And Barbie wannabe over there.” Her lips twisted as she glanced toward Crystal. “Other than that, try not to look like you’re planning everyone’s demise.”

A smile tugged at my lips, despite myself. Before I could respond, a waiter approached with a tray of champagne flutes. Ava grabbed two glasses, thanked him politely, and downed both in quick succession.

“Don’t judge me,” she said, looking up at me with a sheepish grin. “With the people in this room? There’s no way I’m getting through the night sober.”

I couldn’t help it—my smile widened. I wasn’t used to smiling this much. Or at all, really. Her expression shifted, as if she were momentarily stunned, but I turned away before she could call me out on it.

“Come on,” I cleared my throat. “Let’s find our seats.”

I led her toward the table that had been set aside for me. Fairy lights hung delicately above, giving the place a soft, romantic glow. It was obvious Rickon had gone overboard with the decorations—likely a subtle attempt to get under my skin. The overly sentimental display was ridiculous, but Ava giggled beside me.

“It’s so pretty,” she laughed, pulling me toward the seat next to her.

We sat, and as soon as we did, I felt the weight of the room’s stares. It wasn’t subtle. People’s eyes tracked our every move, most of them zeroing in on Ava. I could sense the judgment, the whispers.

It was irritating.

Ava noticed it too, her posture stiffening slightly. I spoke before their judgment settled on her: “The first time I attended a social event like this after my coronation, everyone stared at me, and I considered having all their eyes removed. I believe now that I should have gone through with it so all this irritating staring could have been avoided.”

Ava’s lips twitched, understanding the unspoken message. “What about the ones who didn’t attend that event?” she asked, playing along.

“Then this would have been the second round of eye removal.”

Her grin spread, and she lifted the drink in front of her. “Thank you,” she whispered softly, a little more at ease.

I didn’t know what possessed me to keep talking, but the words slipped out before I could stop them. “You shouldn’t let their opinions get to you. They’re always going to judge. It doesn’t matter what you do; it’s inevitable.”

Her eyes widened, clearly surprised by my attempt at…reassurance. Hell, even I was surprised. Either the temperature in hell was dropping, or my soft spot for Ava Pierce was getting dangerously softer. And I wasn’t sure which one was worse.

Before the moment could settle too much, the sound of glass clinking caught our attention. We turned, both of us focusing on Rickon, who stood in the center of the room. With a charming grin plastered on his face, he launched into a speech, thanking everyone for coming. It was all typical nonsense until he mentioned me by name.

“And a special thanks to the Alpha King for gracing us with his presence tonight,” Rickon continued, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “And, of course, congratulations to him on his upcoming wedding to the beautiful Ava Pierce.”

I felt Ava tense beside me. The air around us thickened immediately, and I could hear her sharp intake of breath. Before either of us could react, her mother’s voice sliced through the crowd like a knife.

“Leave Pierce out of her name!” her mother snapped, loud enough for everyone to hear. “The Pierce family doesn’t act without dignity, and Ava is no longer a Pierce.”

A heavy murmur rippled through the crowd, eyes flicking between Ava and me. Her face flushed crimson, and I could feel the rage building in my chest. My wolf growled low, itching to rip something—or someone—apart. I clenched my fists under the table, forcing myself to stay seated. If I stood now, if I reacted the way I wanted to, her mother wouldn’t be walking out of here with her dignity—or her head—intact.

Ava’s eyes darted to me, panic written all over her face. I could feel her pain, her embarrassment. She didn’t deserve this. None of it. And I couldn’t just sit there while she was torn down.

I leaned in, my voice low and calm despite the storm brewing inside me. “Ignore her. She’s looking for a reaction.”

Ava blinked, looking like she was on the verge of breaking, but she held herself together. Barely.

“And if I stand up right now?” I added, keeping my tone deadly quiet. “I’ll make sure she never speaks to you that way again.” Her eyes widened, a mixture of shock and something else flashing in them. But instead of speaking, she reached for another glass of champagne, downing it quickly. I could see her hands trembling slightly as she set the empty glass down.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispered, her voice shaking just a little. “She’s not worth it.”

My jaw tightened. Every instinct in me screamed to do something—anything—to put that vile woman in her place. But Ava’s words held me back, tethering me to my seat when every part of me wanted to rise and deal with the situation the way I knew best.

Then came the unmistakable clink of glass again. A hush fell over the room, heads turning in the direction of the sound. Dylan stood up, his eyes cold, his mouth twisted into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. Beside him, Damien was already leaning in, his voice low but firm. “Dylan, whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”

Dylan ignored him, brushing off his uncle’s warning like it was nothing more than a breeze. His gaze swept across the room before landing squarely on Ava, his expression darkening.

“Well, since we’re on the subject of congratulations,” he began, the tone in his voice turning bitter, almost mocking. “I’d like to offer mine to my wife…” His words hung in the air for a moment before he added, with a humorless chuckle, “Oh, I’m sorry, my ex-wife. Sometimes the time difference gets a little…hurry.”

Beside me, Ava went rigid. Her whole body tensed as if she were made of stone, and for a split second, it felt like the world had stopped spinning.

“Dylan, stop it,” Damien growled under his breath, his hand gripping Dylan’s arm. But Dylan wasn’t about to back down. He had the room’s attention now, and he was reveling in it.

He snorted, his next words sharper, cutting through the silence like a blade. “It’s not much of a time difference, is it? Considering she’s engaged to another man barely five days after our marriage ended. Things haven’t even been legalized between us.”

I could feel my blood simmering under the surface, every muscle in my body coiled tight. This bastard was pushing, and I wasn’t sure how long I could hold myself back from ripping him apart.

Ava’s breath caught, her face a shade paler, her eyes still locked on Dylan as if she were waiting for him to stop—hoping he would stop. But he didn’t. Instead, he dropped a bomb.

“But you know,” his smile grew crueler, “I’m not all that surprised considering the fact that she has been sleeping with the Alpha King while we were married.”