The Alpha King's Contracted Luna by Nelson Claudia

Chapter 245

-Ava’s POV-

People say

all is fair in love and war.

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But this wasn’t fair.

This wasn’t fair at all.

I stood frozen, staring between the ever–growing pool of blood pooling underneath my father on the ground and Grayson- Grayson, who had just taken an arrow to the heart to save me.

He had crashed to the ground.

He wasn’t moving.

He wasn’t moving.

Crystal let out a soft, breathy laugh, as if she were admiring a piece of art rather than the destruction she had caused. She tilted her head, her cold, calculating eyes scanning the scene before landing on me.

“This is way much better.”

Her lips curved into a final, cruel smile before she stepped backward, vanishing into the shadows as if she had never been there at all.

Move, Ava. Move.

I couldn’t.

I stood there, my breath shallow, my limbs frozen, my heart slamming violently against my ribs as if it were trying to break free. My mind screamed at me to do something–to move, to act, to help–but all I could do was stare.

My father.

Or the man I loved.

My father, who lay motionless with a blade embedded in his chest, the hilt dark with blood. His breathing was shallow–if he was breathing at all. The man who had raised me no matter how much I had hated it, still hated it, who had shaped me into the person I was, who had always seemed so untouchable, was now unconscious, his life slipping away before my eyes.

And Grayson.

Grayson, whose body lay twisted where he had fallen, his clothes soaked in crimson, his face pale. His strong, unyielding hands that had always held me steady, now slack at his sides. His heart–oh Goddess, his heart–an arrow protruding from his chest, as if the universe itself had decided to rip him from me in the cruelest way possible.

Move, Ava!

A choked sob tore through my throat as I stumbled forward, my legs weak beneath me.

I dropped to my knees beside my father first, my shaking hands hovering uselessly over the wound in his chest. Blood. So much blood. The blade was still lodged there, dark and glistening, mocking me. My fingers trembled as I pressed them against his throat, searching–praying–for a pulse.

There. Faint. Weak.

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Tears blurred my vision as I sucked in a ragged breath. “Dad?” My voice cracked, barely more than a whisper, “Please, please wake up.

Nothing.

I let out a strangled cry, my hands clutching at him, as if holding him would somehow stop the life from slipping away.

Then–Grayson.

fingers slipping in the blood–soaked ground.

voice was hoarse,

He didn’t move.

torn, bloodied shirt, shaking him gently, then harder.

Still nothing.

above the wound. His body was still warm, his

whispered, my voice broken. “Please, just hold

Footsteps.

them over the

Someone shouted.

barely registering the figures rushing toward us. My vision swam, my body numb, my mind unable to process anything except the overwhelming terror sinking its claws into

I saw

My mother.

She froze.

the first time in my life, my mother–the woman who had always been composed,

the color draining from her face. Then, without hesitation, she

back to Grayson, gripping his face between my shaking hands. “Please stay with me,” I begged, my tears falling onto his skin. “Please. You’re

beside

my voice sharp, panicked.

and ran, her voice carrying through the air as she shouted

pressing against Grayson’s blood–soaked shirt. “Just hold on,” I

wasn’t sure how long I stayed there.

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Time had stopped.

only thing that existed was Grayson’s shallow breathing and the pounding of my own

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myself until I felt Elaine’s hands on my shoulders, trying to

My voice was raw, “No, I need to stay-”

her own voice shaking. “They need to

I blinked.

here. Hands were on me, trying to move

I need–he needs-”

My mother’s voice cut through

I turned.

beside my father, pressing her hands to his chest, her fingers slick with his blood. Her eyes met mine, and for the first time in my life, I saw something I

Tears.

mother was

a doctor. We should be

could do was

turned back to Grayson as they lifted him, as his blood dripped from their hands,

couldn’t hold on.

other. I couldn’t even tell who they belonged to. Everything felt distant, muffled, like I was

hands, under my nails, staining the fabric of my clothes.

order, and then they were lifting my father. His body sagged as they carried him away, his head lolling to the side, the

didn’t move. Didn’t

vacant. My mother–always composed, always cold, always in control–looked

me up so fast my knees buckled. I barely caught

need to go.”

urgent, but I

on the person holding me. Everything was too bright and too dark at the same time, my vision tunneling in and out.

rang in the distance. More shouting. But it was like I wasn’t even in the

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Chapter 245

snapped again. “We

I didn’t move.

was still looking at my father, watching as the men carried him

them,” My mother’s voice cut through the chaos.