Chapter 110 

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Chapter 110 

-Grayson’s POV- 

“It feels like I haven’t seen you in days.” 

I took a deliberate sip of my whiskey, the glass cool against my fingertips, before glancing at Liam, who sat casually across from me in my study. “Because I have been gone for days,” I replied flatly, my tone leaving no room for interpretation. 

Liam let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. “It’s a saying, Grayson: You’re not supposed to answer it like an accountant tallying numbers. And since we’re here–are you going to tell me why you’ve been gone for days? Or why you dragged me here for a drink?” 

“Aren’t we friends?” I asked, my voice calm and void of any warmth. 

He scoffed, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet room. Something flickered across his eyes–amusement, maybe pity, but I didn’t care enough to decipher it. “I’d have used that term when we were fifteen. Back when you weren’t so determined to freeze out the entire world. Now? Let’s just say you’ve stayed in my life long enough that I tolerate you and your bad attitude.” 

Bad attitude. 

The words stung, though I didn’t let it show. Ava had said the same thing. Ava who I hadn’t spoken to in a week now. Not that I hadn’t tried to reach out. I had. But she had made it abundantly clear that she had nothing to say to me. 

Liam shifted in his seat, breaking my train of thought. As if he could read my mind, he asked the question I didn’t want to hear. “So, what is this really about? Are you and Ava fighting again? Is that why I’m here? Because you don’t want to sit alone with your anger while she refuses to come back to the estate?” 

I narrowed my eyes at him as I rode to my feet. “Not everything is about her.” My voice was colder than I intended. “And if you don’t want to be here, Liam, then go. I didn’t drag you here. You came willingly.” 

Liam sighed, the kind he used when he’d grown tired of my stone walling. “Alright, calm down. I didn’t mean to poke at you.” He gestured toward my chair. “Sit back down. I’ll behave, I swear.” 

I glared at him for a moment longer, considering telling him to leave anyway. But after a beat, I sank back into my chair, though the mood had already soured. The 

wind. My thoughts crashed back to reality cohol I’d consumed had lost its warmth, the haze evaporating like smoke in the 

my wolf disappearing. He was back–or so it seemed. But the curse more incidents with The truth was, I hadn’t had any Maria had unearthed hung over my head like an axe waiting to drop. A curse that, as far as I understood, ran through my bloodline. Its exact purpose remained a mystery, but I knew this much: it meant I wasn’t in control. 

And if there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was losing control. 

I kept it to myself, of course. No one else knew, not even Ava. I couldn’t afford for anyone to discover this weakness–it would only give them another weapon to use against me. That’s why I’d tasked Maria with solving it. Quietly. Discreetly. 

“Grayson.” 

Liam’s voice broke into my thoughts, snapping me back to the present. I blinked, focusing on him as he gave me a pointed look. “What do you actually want to talk about?” 

I stared at him, fingers drumming lightly against the armrest. The words came out before I even realized I was speaking, She’s not talking to me. 

Liam raised an eyebrow, surprised–not just at what I said, but that I’d said anything at all. Avalehe asked cautiously. And why’s that?” 

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I shifted in my seat, gripping the glass tighter. The study suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier. “Because I told her I don’t want children.” 

Liam blinked, his surprise clear now. “You said that out loud? To her?” 

“I don’t see why that’s so shocking,” I muttered, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “She painted this perfect picture of what she wished her life to be and I told her that the children in that world could never exist.” 

“Well,” Liam began carefully, watching me like he was treading on thin ice, “I’m guessing she didn’t take it well.” 

“Obviously,” I said curtly. “She made it perfectly clear where she stands on the matter.” 

Liam leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his tone measured. “And why don’t you want children, Grayson? Really?” 

“You know why.” I met his gaze, unflinching. “You, of all people, know what happened with my father. The man I swore I’d never become.” 

• Thi 

His expression softened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt. So I continued. “No matter how hard I tried to escape it, I turned out just like him. The power. The I exhaled sharply. “I refuse to continue the cycle. I won’t bring a child into this world just to ru 

them.” 

Liam didn’t argue, but he studied me with a look I couldn’t quite place–pity, perhaps, or maybe understanding. Then, after 

I 

a long pause, he asked a question hdn’t anticipated. “Have you thought about who the throne will pass down to if this is 

the path you’re taking?” 

The words hit me harder than I expected. 

I’d spent so much time thinking about the 

hadn’t considered the inevitability of it. Moodline ending–about curses and the destruction that surrounded me–that I 

chest tightened as Liam’s question sank in. If I didn’t have an heir, then what? What happened to the throne? To the line my family had ruled for generations? 

It wasn’t just about breaking 

a cycle. It was about severing it completely. 

Liam watched me closely, waiting for my answer, but I didn’t have one to give. The thought–this sudden, unrelenting realization–crashed into me like a wave I hadn’t seen coming. For once, I didn’t know what to say. 

I stared at the whiskey in my glass, its smooth surface betraying nothing, and for the first time in years, I felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. 

Liam shifted in his seat again, his voice softer now. “You might hate your father, Grayson. But that doesn’t mean you have to become him. And it doesn’t mean you can’t be better.” 

I let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Better, Liam?” 

He didn’t argue, didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “I think you need to figure out what ‘better‘ actually means for you. And for Ava,” 

His words hung in the air, heavy and uninvited, sinking into the silence between us like a stone into deep water. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I spoke–my voice low and rough, as if the truth clawed its way out. “I don’t care how many people in this world hate me. Somehow, I can stomach that. If Ava turned against me, I’d find a way to live with it- grief–stricken or not. But if I brought a child into this world… and they hated me the way I hated my father? If they despised me so much that it burned them to their very core, to the point they would destroy everything just to see me gone… My voice faltered, a crack in the calin façade, “I don’t think I could survive that.” 

Liam’s expression shifted–first with quiet understanding, then with something far sharper. His brows knit, his mouth opened slightly as realization swept over him like a wave. The shock rooted him to his chair, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. “You… started the fire that night?” 

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I didn’t answer immediately, My grip on the whiskey glass tightened, the weight of my confession threatening to crush me. Before I could decide whether to deny it, admit it, or stay silent, the door to my study creaked open. 

I froze. 

Liam’s head turned sharply, but it was too late. The last person I ever wanted to hear those words stood at the threshold, her face pale and eyes wide with disbelief. 

Elaine. 

Her lips parted, trembling slightly as she processed what she’d heard. “You started the fire…?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through me like a blade. “The fire that killed my parents? You killed my parents?”