Chapter 103

-Ava’s POV-

He slipped into a coma the next day. At least, that was what happened medically. I had begged Liam to let me take him to the hospital, desperate for some sense of control, some tangible way to help. But he had stood firm, his voice calm but unyielding as he told me, “Ava, I know you care about him deeply, but this is pack business. Grayson will be taken care of by the healers.“.

I had tried to fight him on it, tried to explain that I needed to do something. But in the end, he had gently guided me away, leaving me feeling powerless and utterly lost.

The only silver lining, if it could even be called that, was that Isabella had fully healed. Rickon and Eliza were by her side, ensuring she had all the support she needed. But I wasn’t a good friend–not to her, not to anyone. My focus was completely consumed by Grayson.

I had called into work, fumbling through a conversation with Dr. Griffin about Grayson’s “accident.” He had been understanding, giving me the time off I asked for without question. Tessa, thankfully, was doing well. As for Crystal, who I’d been forced to tolerate over the last few days–well, she could go to hell for all I cared.

up and Now, I sat in Grayson’s room, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. The healers had cleaned him bandaged his wounds, but he still looked fragile in a way I had never imagined possible. The all–powerful Grayson Blackwood, reduced to this. It felt

unnatural. wrong,

I sighed, pulling the chair closer to his bed and reaching for his hand. His skin was warm, a small comfort, but his fingers were limp in mine.

“You know,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “the first time I saw you, I thought you were insanely hot.” I let out a shaky laugh, tears pooling in my eyes. “I know I was supposed to be focused on getting out of that damned marriage with Dylan, but part of me just kept thinking, Wow, this guy is gorgeous. Ridiculous, right?”

I sniffled, brushing a stray tear off my cheek. “It feels like forever ago now. Like a lifetime.”

I squeezed his hand gently, willing him to give me some kind of response–a twitch, a flicker, anything. But he remained still, his breathing steady but shallow.

“Please wake up,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Grayson, you have to wake up. You’re… you’re supposed to be invincible. The Alpha King, remember? You’re the one who saves everyone else, not the one lying here like this.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. Closing my eyes, I leaned my forehead against our joined hands.

“You know, I used to have this fantasy,” I said softly, my voice barely audible. “A stupid little daydream about the life I wanted. And for some reason, over time, you became the man in that fantasy.”

just a cozy little house with a garden in the back. You love working in that garden, did you know that?” I laughed quietly, the sound tinged with sadness. “You’d plant vegetables, and I’d tease you about how seriously you took it. But you’d just smile at me, that crooked grin of yours,

girl. You were such a good dad,

cheeks, though the tears kept coming. “And you weren’t angry or closed off in that world. You didn’t have to be. You didn’t grow up with all that pain, all those expectations weighing you down. You didn’t have

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Chapter 103

Sundays where we’d all pile into bed- me, you, the kids. The boys would fight over who got to sit closest to you, and the little one would curl up on my lap. You’d

were happy in that world, Grayson. And I was happy too. No politics, no battles, no bloodshed. Just us, living

room was silent except for the steady rhythm of his breathing and the occasional rustle

silly dream I came up with to escape for a little while. But… I wanted it so badly. I still do. And if you wake up, maybe–maybe we can try to make something like that real. I don’t care about the title,

his knuckles. “So please, Grayson. Come back to me. I don’t care how long it takes or what I have to do–I’ll

forehead against his hand again,

fantasy unfold in my mind like a movie I didn’t want to end. I talked about the vacations we’d take, the silly arguments we’d have, the way our kids would roll their eyes at us when

talked until my throat was raw and my heart

a restless half–sleep, I felt it–a faint twitch in the hand I

open, my heart pounding.

a moment, there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the room and the steady rise and fall of

happened again–a weak, almost imperceptible movement of his fingers against mine.

shot to my feet, leaning over him. “Grayson, can you hear me? Please, give me a sign. Anything.”

and a soft, hoarse sound escaped

might burst. “You’re okay,” I whispered, tears streaming down

moved, but no sound came out. I leaned closer, desperate to hear him.

it was almost

widened, the sound of my name hanging in the air like a fragile thread. Grayson. It was him. I could hardly believe it. He was still here, still with

racing in my chest as panic began to seize me. “Grayson?” My voice cracked, too weak and small for the

steady, wrapped around my wrist with surprising strength, pulling me back down to the edge of

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