Chapter 72

-Ava’s POV-

I gasped sharply as my eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly to force my senses to catch up with the shock of waking. For a moment, everything felt disorienting—my vision blurred, my mind groggy. But as I took in my surroundings, a chill settled over me. I pushed myself up slowly, feeling the muggy, cold ground beneath me, and realized I was standing in the middle of an empty street. The street stretched endlessly in either direction, bordered by houses lined up in neat rows. But these weren’t just any houses—they looked identical to my parents’ mansion. Each one was a perfect replica, from the tall windows to the finely manicured bushes, lined up like ghostly memories from my past.

A cold groan escaped my lips. Really? My subconscious couldn’t have dropped me somewhere with a car waiting, or at least some other way to move through this endless nightmare?

As I looked down the street, the houses stretched out as far as I could see, identical facades disappearing into the distance.

With a sigh, I started walking, my footsteps echoing softly against the empty street. Each step seemed to take an eternity, my progress agonizingly slow. The houses blurred into each other, perfectly maintained yet empty, like shells. I didn’t even know where I was going, only that I had to keep moving forward.

Then, after what felt like hours, something caught my eye—a faint detail that broke the monotonous perfection. One of the houses had a small dent at the corner of its exterior, so subtle it was barely noticeable. But I saw it immediately. Growing up, I’d been trained to notice details, to catch imperfections, and that training kicked in automatically, honing my focus on that small, imperfect mark. I’d passed this house five times now, and every time, I’d seen that dent. My heart sank as a realization washed over me—I’d been walking in a loop.

So… either my subconscious wanted me to enter that house, or something was keeping me trapped.

I couldn’t think of any other explanation, so I took a deep breath, turned, and walked toward it. My steps felt heavier as I approached the front door, the eerie silence pressing down around me. I raised my hand to knock, half-expecting the butler from my childhood—the one who’d always looked down at me with that sneer of disdain—to answer. But the knock echoed back at me unanswered.

No movement, no sound.

Was I really that alone? Not even a memory of my family here to greet me, even though I didn’t really like them? At the very least, I would have expected Isabella or Uncle Damien, or someone who made this place feel like home.

Pushing the door open, I called out, “Hello? Is anyone home? Mother? Father? Ava Ugly-Nose Butler?” My voice sounded small, almost swallowed up by the empty house.

Silence greeted me, followed by a soft slam as the door closed behind me. I took a few tentative steps forward, glancing around. The place looked exactly as I remembered it—the same furniture, the same paintings on the walls. Every inch of the space seemed frozen in time.

Then, like a tug on my heart, I thought of my room. If there was anything to find inside my head, surely it would be there. I moved quickly up the staircase, my hand gliding over the polished banister, familiar yet foreign. I threw open the door to my room… only to find something entirely different.

It was a nursery, filled with baby things, all neatly arranged, but everything was in twos. Two cribs, two small beds, toys scattered around. I froze, confusion blooming into unease. Why would my subconscious take me here, to an image of infancy? I hadn’t remembered anything from that time, and why were things in double?

Just as I was about to turn away, a sharp, piercing cry shattered the silence. Startled, I turned to see a small figure in one of the cribs suddenly staring up at me with wide, curious eyes. I moved closer, peering down. It was a baby—but not me. I’d seen pictures of myself as a baby, and this child didn’t look like me.

I reached out hesitantly, my fingers just about to touch her, when suddenly everything started to shake violently. The ground seemed to tremble beneath my feet, the walls and ceiling swaying as if caught in an earthquake. I stumbled backward, watching as the room seemed to crack and peel away like the skin of a broken doll. Panic seized me as I braced for impact, throwing my hands up to shield my face.

And then, in an instant, everything stopped.

Lowering my arms slowly, I saw that I was no longer in the nursery but standing in the middle of a forest. The darkness around me was thick, oppressive, and when I looked up, the sky was an endless stretch of midnight. I sighed, brushing dust from my clothes.

“Don’t you think it would be easier if you just showed yourself?” I shouted into the shadows. “Then we could merge or whatever, and I could get on with this happily-ever-after nonsense.”

Nothing moved. The silence pressed down on me, almost mocking in its stillness. I scowled, irritation bubbling to the surface.

“Wolf version of me? Come on, help me out here!” I yelled, feeling my frustration grow. “You’re supposed to be some powerful part of me, right?”

A slow creak sounded from behind me, like a branch bending under pressure. I spun around, eyes scanning the shadows. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, a figure stepped into view—my exact reflection, staring back at me with a cold, calculating expression.

I blinked, my mind stumbling over the sight of her. She looked exactly like me, down to the last detail, but there was something darker, more primal in her gaze. She stepped forward, a cruel smile twisting her lips as I instinctively took a step back.

“Is this really how you expect things to work?” she asked, her voice a low, mocking echo of my own. “I took one step toward you, and you flinched. I could smell your fear from miles away. Maybe that’s why she refuses to come out. Maybe that’s why she’s stayed hidden your whole life… because she’d rather stay buried than have a counterpart as weak as you.”

My heart raced as her words sank in, but I forced myself to stand my ground. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, clinging to whatever courage I could muster.

“Oh, don’t,” She took another step forward, and again, I took a step back. It was instinctual, a reflex I couldn’t control, and the look of disgust on her face grew sharper. “Deep down, you know it. She knows it. Just like you know you were never the better choice. You’ve done nothing but prove it to everyone—your parents, yourself, Grayson.” Her smile twisted, colder than before. “One day, he’ll see it too. He’ll see you for what you truly are—a weakling.”

“What… what are you even talking about?” My voice was shaky, my confidence unraveling under the weight of her stare.

Before I could react, her eyes darkened to an inky black, and her fingers extended into sharp, claw-like talons. She lunged forward, slashing across my face. Pain exploded, hot and searing, and I cried out, stumbling backward. She loomed over me, her expression filled with contempt.

“You’re a disgrace. Pathetic,” she hissed, advancing as I scrambled back on the ground. “I should end your miserable existence right now.”

With desperation flaring inside me, my hand brushed against a broken tree branch. I grabbed it and swung, driving it into her leg. She let out a snarl of pain, her eyes flashing with fury, but it was enough of a distraction. I turned and bolted, the pain in my face throbbing with every heartbeat.

Branches tore at my skin as I stumbled through the dark forest, her footsteps echoing close behind, relentless and quick. “Running away, just like you always do?” she taunted, her voice a haunting echo in the night. “Is that all you’re good for?”

“Why are you doing this?” I yelled over my shoulder, my breath coming in gasps. “We’re the same person!”

“No,” she snarled, her voice dripping with disgust, “I am nothing like you.”

Her words felt like knives, slicing through the thin armor of courage I had left. I could hear her footsteps gaining on me, her breathing steady, unphased by the chase. My own breaths came shallow and desperate, my lungs burning as I pushed myself harder, stumbling over roots and rocks. The darkness seemed to close in around me, trapping me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how fast I ran, I’d never escape her.

“She is tired of hiding in the shadows, of being shackled to someone as weak as you?” she screamed, her voice carrying a wild, vicious energy. “You’re a failure, and you know it. Everyone you’ve ever loved will leave you because even they knew—”

Her words struck deeper than any claw could, and I could feel the hopelessness creeping in, seeping into my bones. But I forced myself to keep running, the weight of her accusations bearing down on me.

“Shut up!” I shouted, though my voice was shaky. “You don’t know anything! You’re just a twisted part of my mind!”

“Oh, I know everything about you,” she sneered, her pace quickening. “I know your doubts, your fears, the ones you’re too weak to admit even to yourself. That you are broken beyond repair. That you will end up alone, like you deserve.”

And then it felt like I was suddenly being dragged backward. I tried to claw at the floor, but I couldn’t. The distance between us kept closing until I was right in front of her. Her eyes—my eyes—gleamed with malice, and she spat the word “weak” before her claws glinted under the moon and she brought them down, slicing across my chest and tearing it open.