Chapter 59

-Ava’s POV-

Weddings are supposed to mark the beginning of a happily ever after, a fairytale of love and promises. But here, it felt like the start of an eternity filled with blood and shadows. The memory of what happened to Luca burned in my mind, and I knew Grayson would want revenge for what had taken place. When Grayson wanted revenge, no force could stop him.

I sighed deeply as we ushered the last of the guests out, doing our best to reassure them that everything was fine. Liam gave me a single, unreadable glance before slipping out silently.

Now it was just us—Isabella, Eliza, Rickon, and me. The remnants of my so-called wedding lay scattered around us, tainted by violence and secrets that no one should have had to witness on a day meant for vows and new beginnings.

“Well, that was eventful,” Rickon drawled, breaking the silence with his usual casualness. “Officially the best wedding I’ve ever been to.”

Isabella rounded on him, crossing her arms with a glare. “Do you ever know when to stop? This could have ended a lot worse, and here you are cracking jokes.”

He returned her glare with equal intensity. “Maybe if you weren’t so uptight, you’d appreciate a little humor. Besides, you should be thanking me—my antidotes saved the day.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “First of all, I’m not uptight. Second, we saved your ass back there, and it was the witch who saved the day, not your little potions.”

Rickon gave her an exaggerated eye roll before retorting, “I was going to stick around, maybe even bond with my gal pals, but you’ve officially ruined it.”

Eliza raised an eyebrow, amused. “You don’t even know me, and who even says ‘gal pals’?”

Rickon’s eyes flashed with irritation before he finally turned to me, his usual charming smile reappearing. “Ava, darling, you deserve better company. I’ll see you around. Congratulations again,” he said with a wink, before striding out, leaving just the three of us.

“And then there were three,” Isabella muttered.

I shook my head, tiredness settling heavily on my shoulders. I walked over to one of the chairs and sank down. Everything had been so exhausting, physically and emotionally. Isabella let out a sigh, and then her gaze turned determined. “I’m going to find some alcohol. A closed bottle this time. I refuse to be sober right now.”

Eliza chuckled and took the seat next to me. “Unrelated, but aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon right about now?”

I paused, letting out a short laugh. I might as well tell all my secrets. “Funny thing about that… Grayson and I are only going to be married for a year. It’s part of a contract I signed with him. No fairytale, no happily-ever-after—just a convenient arrangement to escape my controlling parents. So, no honeymoon.”

Eliza’s brows lifted in surprise. “Well, with everything going on, that’s somehow the least surprising thing today. This whole thing sounds like a cliché billionaire romance story but with werewolves and witches.”

“Right? Just without the grand romance part,” I muttered, swallowing back the bitterness. I didn’t mention the other thing—the real reason Grayson initiated the contract, the one he refused to discuss, though I could have sworn I’d felt him react to me during the first kiss.

Just then, Isabella returned, triumphantly holding up four bottles. “We’re in luck, ladies! Four bottles—two for…”

Her voice trailed off. I’m drinking Trepid quickly. “I have work tomorrow, and someone happens to be bleeding out. I’d rather be able…”

Isabella looked shrewd. “Even with all this supernatural madness, if I don’t show up tomorrow, I’ll definitely be fired.”

Isabella, having exaggeratedly sighed, took the last chair and pulled it close. She looked at us both with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “You’re telling me you want to be stone-cold sober after someone tried to kill werewolves at your wedding? Not to mention, they’re still out there, probably watching as we speak,” she added with a dark grin, her gaze settling on me. “And you,” she nodded at Eliza, “you really want to be sober while learning about werewolves?”

A shiver ran down my spine at her words, and I held out my hand. “That was low, Bels. Alright, give me a bottle. And by the way, I told Eliza the marriage is fake.”

Eliza chuckled, reaching for a bottle herself. “On second thought, I do need a drink.”

I took a bottle. Isabella grinned as we each twisted open our bottles. I cleared my throat. “Sooo… where do I start? Okay. Werewolves have existed for centuries, and—”

Isabella quickly cut in, giving me an exasperated look. “Hold up, Lilian. If you’re about to launch into some boring lecture you memorized from your parents at age ten, spare us. I’ll do the talking; you sit back and relax.”

I shrugged, taking a swig from my bottle as Isabella grinned and turned her attention to Eliza. “Alright, newbie. Here’s what you need to know: Werewolves have been around for centuries, scattered in packs all over the world. And there are rules—strict ones. Packs are like clans, with Alphas leading. And in different regions, there is an overall Alpha, like the Alpha of all Alphas. We call him the Alpha King. That’s Grayson.”

Eliza leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “That’s no surprise. So, packs—what do they actually do? I mean, is it all fighting and…”

“Not always,” Isabella replied with a smirk. “We’re not wild animals… well, not all the time. Packs offer protection, a family of sorts. We’re bound by a common code. But with power comes conflict, especially among Alphas who want more power. That’s where the blood and drama comes in.”

Eliza nodded, her eyes wide. “And what about mates? Is that, like, real?”

“Oh, it’s real, alright,” Isabella answered, her tone tinged with sarcasm. “Mates are a whole other complication. You don’t get to choose your pack. It’s some cosmic, ancient force that links two souls, binding them in a way that can’t be broken. Think of it as the ultimate connection. But that doesn’t mean it’s always welcome. Sometimes, being bound to someone you don’t want can be…”

She glanced at me, “unbearable.”

Eliza’s curiosity deepened, her expression slightly tense. “So… it’s like an arranged marriage by the universe?”

“Exactly. Sometimes it’s bliss, sometimes it’s torture. And yes, if you’re bound to the wrong person, it’s hell. Trust me, I’ve seen it go both ways,” Isabella responded, taking a long swig from her bottle. “Lilian is the perfect example of the hell part, but we will come to that later. And then there are Betas, the Alpha’s right-hand wolves. They keep order within the pack and make sure everyone follows the rules.”

Eliza raised an eyebrow, clearly absorbing all of this. “This sounds like some twisted supernatural soap opera.”

Isabella laughed, clinking her bottle against Eliza’s. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. There are centuries-old rivalries, betrayals, alliances—and that’s just on a good day.”

Isabella took another swig, then flashed a mischievous grin. “Any questions so far?”

“Can I please answer them?” I asked, feeling a surge of excitement.

Isabella laughed. “Nine years later, and you’re still such a teacher’s pet, Lilian.” She turned to Eliza. “You know, she was so annoying when we met at the werewolf academy. I don’t know how she got lucky enough to become my friend.”

I rolled my eyes. “Excuse me? You punched me in the face, declared we were best friends, and all because my eyes change color and everyone liked me.”

“You made the teachers give us extra assignments. No one liked you, Lilian,” Isabella shot back, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, go ahead and answer some questions, teacher’s pet.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

Eliza laughed, watching our banter. “You two are really cute, but I still have questions,” she interjected, “Starting with why you call her Lilian and why your eyes actually change colors, Ava.”

Isabella answered before I could speak. “It’s her middle name. I used to call her Ava, but then I heard her parents call her by her full name for the first time, and they made it sound so cold and strict. So, I started calling her Lilian, just to add a bit of warmth. Plus, I couldn’t use the name everyone else did. She’s special like that.”

Something shifted inside me at her words—a crack, a small fracture in the walls I’d built around myself. My parents had always made me despise my full name, saying it with such distaste whenever they wanted to scold me. But Isabella had claimed it, given it back to me with kindness.

Clearing my throat before emotion betrayed me, I tried to brush it off. “I don’t know why my eyes change color. I’ve always been like this. My parents saw it as some sort of flaw. They spent years trying to figure out what was ‘wrong’ with me so they could fix it, but they couldn’t.”

Eliza leaned forward, her gaze curious. “Do you think it’s connected to being a werewolf?”

I took another swig, letting the burn calm my nerves. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t even… I don’t exactly have a wolf…”

Isabella squeezed my hand, her voice steady and reassuring. “You do. She’s in there somewhere, and we’re going to find her—I promise. Plus, we’ve got one more person helping us now, right, Eliza?”

It took her a second, but Eliza nodded, raising her bottle. “I’m in.”

Isabella lifted her own bottle, a grin lighting up her face. “The duo is now a trio. Here’s to finding Lilian’s wolf and making her the most badass version of herself!”

I smiled, feeling warmth spread through me, and lifted my bottle as well. We clinked them together, the sound ringing with shared determination.

This felt… nice. It felt right, like for once, I wasn’t totally alone in the darkness. And yet, Isabella’s earlier joke played over in my mind like a warning. Someone had attacked us, and deep down, I knew it wasn’t just random. It had been a message, a threat directed at Grayson. As I sat there, I couldn’t shake the sensation that someone was still watching us, lurking like a shadow at the back of my mind.

Waiting. Watching. Biding their time before they struck again.