I’ve never liked weddings. The forced smiles, the empty promises, the sense of a fairytale forced into reality when we all knew half these marriages ended in disaster. As I walked down the aisle, my focus was solely on counting the seconds until this farce was over, so I could turn my attention back to matters of actual importance.
Maria, of course, was causing a stir just by existing; her refusal to dress up marked her as the outsider she was. Not that I cared. The moment the priest announced us husband and wife, she’d perform the spell, and all of this would be behind…
Then she entered the hall.
Our eyes met, and everything I had rehearsed—every indifferent thought and dismissive word I had planned to shield myself with—seemed to dissolve. I kept my expression controlled, unwilling to give away even the faintest hint of emotion. The plan was for the priest to skip the formalities—just a few quick words, and it would be over—but, for some reason, the words slipped out before I could stop them.
“Even at your wedding, you look ready to start a fight.”
A familiar, smug voice broke my focus. I sighed, turning to find Carter grinning at me with that irritating glint in his eyes.
“I really hoped you wouldn’t make it, Carter.”
He just laughed, raising his glass as if genuinely amused by my words. “You always have a way with words, Grayson. Warms my heart, really. Now, where’s that beautiful bride of yours?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Stay away from Ava.”
“Relax, I was only going to say she has my respect for going through with this. Considering you were too stoic to even kiss your own wife on your wedding day.” He raised his glass in a mock toast and backed away before I could reply, leaving me with a gnawing sense of irritation.
This was slightly more tolerable when Ava was here, though it didn’t help that she’d blindsided me with that statement about not wanting to end the contract. But now that Isabella had whisked her away, leaving me to endure endless congratulations from people who either feared or despised me, the entire ordeal had become unbearable. Yet the social niceties continued, people eager to suck up to someone in my position.
“There he is.”
I groaned, turning to see Rickon, holding two glasses and grinning like he’d just won a prize. “Do you want something, Rickon?”
He sighed as if I’d hurt his feelings. “At least save the grumpiness for after the wedding.” He dropped the grin. “Just wanted to say congratulations. The beautiful Ava Pierce—excuse me, Ava Blackwood—is one unlucky lady.”
I fixed him with a glare, and he wisely backed away. Good. Maybe if I kept this up, everyone would leave me alone. Though I’d prefer to find Ava and Maria—I needed to confirm if the spell had worked. There had been a surge of something powerful when Ava and I had kissed, but I couldn’t be certain without Maria’s confirmation. My wolf stirred uneasily, a warning growl echoing in my mind as I sensed a familiar presence.
“Congratulations, Grayson.”
Her voice, silky and pointed, made me tense. I didn’t bother turning around, sensing her irritation until she stepped into my line of sight. Monica.
Chapter 55
“If I say I’m sorry for the dress stunt, will you take me off your death list?”
I stared at her coldly. “I told you not to come near me, Monica. You’re pushing it. And I don’t remember inviting you to this wedding.”
The fake sweetness vanished, and her glare matched mine. “I’m Elaine’s plus-one. I said I was sorry. Do you always have to act so vile? I don’t even know how I almost married you.”
“Yet here you are, throwing yourself at me again,” I said, stepping closer, watching her face pale as she backed away. “In case it isn’t clear, Monica—you mean nothing in my world. You don’t exist to me. I see you as nothing more than a nuisance, and I suggest you start learning your place unless you’re looking to shorten your days.”
Fear flashed across her face before she retreated, and I felt the relief of being left alone, if only for a moment. I quickly began scanning the crowd, searching for either Ava or Maria.
I finally spotted Maria, sitting with an impressive collection of empty glasses surrounding her, her leg propped up on the table, looking as out of place as she possibly could. A group of women nearby stared at her with open disdain, whispering amongst themselves as if their distaste would somehow affect her. I moved toward her, taking a seat next to her, fully aware that she was pretending not to notice me.
Then, in a move I hadn’t anticipated, I raised my leg and placed it on the table, mirroring her stance.
The women exchanged shocked looks, glancing between each other. I added a glare for good measure, sending them scattering like frightened birds.
Maria finally turned to me, her expression somewhere between surprise and amusement. “First of all, I had no problem with those stuck-up ladies staring. It’s not every day the commoners get to witness my divine presence. And second, did you just stick up for me, Grayson? In a completely out-of-character, borderline human way?”
I placed my legs back down, settling into a more formal posture. “I refuse to engage in whatever nonsense you’re thinking. Did you cast the spell, and did it work?”
She blinked innocently. “What spell?”
“Maria.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I cast it. And yes, it worked. I have to say, though, that was one heavy kiss. And you didn’t tell me your new wife was that beautiful. What does she see in you, frog, anyway?”
“At least I became the handsome prince when she kissed me,” I replied, unable to stop the words from slipping out. The moment they did, I regretted it, inwardly cringing.
Maria’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I quickly reverted to my usual tone. “Don’t say a word. I need to find Ava. Stay here—I’ll bring her over to meet you.”
She snorted, not missing a beat. “Grayson, are you sure you’re not an alien in disguise? You just made a Princess and the Frog reference. I mean, are you malfunctioning? Or did that kiss with Ava wake up some human part of you buried deep down?”
I narrowed my eyes, but she only grinned, seemingly enjoying my discomfort. “Please, continue. I’d love to know what other fairy tales you’ve been secretly watching.”
I gave her a pointed look. “Are you done?”
She shrugged, not the least bit fazed by my glare. “Oh, I’m just getting started. But fine, fine, I’ll save the fairy-tale interrogation for later. Go find your princess or whatever you’re calling her these days.”
I rolled my eyes and stood, refusing to engage any further. “Stay here,” I reminded her, “and keep out of trouble.”
She waved me off with a smirk. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be right here, basking in my own greatness while you continue to play the reluctant prince. And for the record, Grayson, if you ever make another fairy-tale reference, I’ll know something in you has truly snapped.”
Ignoring Maria’s last remark, I turned away and began weaving through the crowd, keeping my gaze sharp as I searched for Ava. The murmur of conversation filled the air, but a sudden commotion in the far corner of the hall caught my attention. I glanced over to see a woman doubled over, gripping her throat as she choked on her drink. She was quickly pulled aside by someone nearby; their worried faces were visible even from a distance. I was about to dismiss it as an isolated incident when, from the opposite side of the hall, more coughing erupted. Another person doubled over, then another, and soon the unsettling sound spread across the room like a dark wave.
The coughing escalated, becoming more desperate, until the hall was filled with the sickening sound of people hacking and gasping for air. My stomach twisted as I noticed a thin trickle of blood slipping from the corner of a man’s mouth, staining the floor as he spat it out. And then another person followed suit. Blood, smeared on the pristine tiles, and the scent was unmistakable. I clenched my fists, trying to focus amidst the growing chaos. My eyes scanned the room frantically, searching for Ava, knowing I had to get her out before this turned worse.
Just as I began to make my way through the crowd, a hand gripped my shoulder from behind. My wolf surged to the surface, ready to react, until I caught the familiar scent and turned to find Liam standing there, his expression tense as he held a glass out to me.
“Grayson, we have a serious problem,” he said, his voice low but urgent.
I took the glass from him, sniffing it cautiously. Instantly, my wolf recoiled; recognition hit me hard.
“Wolfsbane,” I muttered, my voice barely audible above the din. It was laced in the drink, masked so well that only a heightened wolf’s senses would catch it.
Liam nodded grimly. “I caught the scent just before taking a sip. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. It doesn’t hit until you finish the drink. People were downing their glasses without a second thought.”
Chaos continued to swell around us; the werewolves present were clutching their throats, coughing, gasping, some already starting to panic as blood dripped from their lips onto the floor.
I made a move to find Ava, but Liam grabbed my arm, his face tight with concern. “Grayson, half the people in this room are humans. Humans who have no idea werewolves even exist. Think about what your wolf does when it feels attacked.”
Realization hit like ice-cold water. “It defends itself… it fights back,” I whispered, feeling a chill settle over me. “They’re going to shift. Their wolves will see the poison as an attack, and they’ll start transforming to protect themselves.”
Liam nodded, his expression mirroring my own dread. “Exactly. Whoever did this isn’t just trying to kill—they’re trying to expose us all. If they succeed, the world will know about werewolves.”