Chapter 280

-Grayson’s POV-

“Are you sure about this?”

Ava’s voice was soft, careful, as if s

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knew exactly how heavy this moment was for me. It took me a second to register her words before I turned to her. And when I did, despite everything–the weight pressing against my chest, the ghosts lingering in the air–I smiled. Just at the sight of her.

I had been doing that a lot lately or at least for the past three days.

Three days. That’s how long it had been since I almost lost her again. Since I put an end to the threat hanging over the realm once and for all.

I exhaled slowly, turning my attention back to the house in front of me.

The remains of it.

Elaine had been right when she said I needed to confront my past to move on. Talking to my parents–or what was left of them–wasn’t going to change anything. Telling my father how much I hated that I became him, how I blamed him for making me like this, telling my mother that I wished I had never become like this… none of that would erase what was already written.

I had to come here. To where it started.

To where the hate first took root, before it festered and spread, before it grew into something so consuming that I didn’t even realize I had let it shape me.

“You want me to go in with you?” Ava asked again.

I dragged my gaze away from the house and shook my head. “I think I have to do this myself.”

She nodded, though she didn’t look convinced. I knew she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Instead, she squeezed my hand one last time before letting go.

I turned back to the house.

The fire had taken almost everything. Almost. The structure was still standing, but it was a hollow shell of what it once was. The roof had caved in years ago, leaving jagged, blackened beams exposed to the sky. The walls were cracked, some sections barely holding together, others collapsed entirely, leaving gaping holes like open wounds.

And yet, it still felt… imposing.

Even after all these years, even as the vines crept up its broken frame and nature slowly tried to reclaim it, it still stood like it was daring me to step inside.

I inhaled.

Even now, even after so much time had passed, I could still smell the smoke.

Not fresh, not like it had just burned–but old, settled deep into the bones of the house, into the very ground. A scent that would never truly leave.

I forced my feet forward, stepping past the threshold.

The moment I did, the past crashed into me.

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10:30 Fri, 21 Mar

Chapter 280

Not just in memories, but in something deeper. Something tangible.

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hear it–the distant echoes of footsteps, of laughter, of voices calling my name. I

wood always gleaming. A chandelier used to hang above, casting a

The chandelier was gone–either

my mind, I was five years old

the house was alive.

in the foyer, arms crossed as she smiled at me. She was beautiful–not in a delicate way, but in a way that made people stop and pay attention. She had a presence

her voice. “What

legs barely able to keep

sighed, shaking her head, but there was no anger there. No real disappointment.

blinked, and the vision shifted.

The warmth vanished.

I was eight.

And

my

entryway, his hand gripping my arm so tightly

think the world is kind?” He had growled. “You think

He hated when I cried. Hated when I

But it hurt.

My arm hurt.

had cracked, “I didn’t mean

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mean to?” He had shoved me back, sending me stumbling. “Pathetic.”

hit me. Not yet. But because the weight of his disappointment had

been warm once. Bright. But after that moment, the shadows

laughter had started to

another shift.

I was twelve.

of the grand staircase, staring down at my father as he spoke with the other Alphas

The kind of voice that made men listen. The kind of voice

I wanted to

I realized what he was saying.

of man he truly

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time I had ever truly thought it–I

me suddenly, yanking me to another memory and a

and the burned ruins faded away,

Elaine.

stairs. Her blonde hair was wild from running around outside, her cheeks flushed pink. She wasn’t older than seven, and yet she

She whined, tugging insistently, “Before they find

glancing one last time toward the study where my father and his men

about

tighter and pulled harder, her blue eyes shining

me down the hallway, past the grand windows where golden sunlight streamed in, past the shelves lined with books we were

she’d set up a “trap” using two chairs, a blanket,

perfect,” she whispered, crouching behind a bush. “When Liam walks by–boom!

do know Liam twice your size, right?”

completely undeterred, “That’s what

then. A real, full laugh that felt foreign

been my light in that house,

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