Chapter 127 

-Grayson’s POV- 

Rickon leaned over to the armrest, retrieving a miniature bottle of whiskey from a hidden compartment. He held it up as if he’d unearthed some grand treasure. “The rules are simple,” he said, shaking the bottle slightly for effect. “We take turns asking each other questions. Nothing too personal–don’t worry, I’m not about to dig into your tragic backstory or whatever. But here’s the catch: for every question you refuse to answer, you take a drink. 

I gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “You dragged me into this just to play some childish drinking game?” 

Rickon placed a hand över his chest, feigning offense. “Childish? This isn’t just a game–it’s a sacred tradition. It’s called bonding, Grayson. You should try it sometime.” 

I stared at him, my voice deadpan. “You think I want to bond with you?” 

“Not particularly,” he said with an easy grin as he unscrewed the cap with a flourish. “But you’re stuck with me for the next few hours, and unless you’d prefer I spend the entire flight testing your patience, I suggest you play along.” 

I debated telling him to go to hell, but the thought of enduring his endless chatter for the duration of the flight was somehow worse. With a resigned sigh, I leaned back in my seat. “Fine. Get on with it.” 

Rickon’s face lit up with triumph. “That’s the spirit. I’ll start.” He leaned back, swirling the tiny bottle like he was some sort of whiskey expert. “What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?” 

I gave him a blank look. “Pass.” 

“Really? Not even going to try?” 

“I said pass,” I repeated, my tone leaving 

no room for argument. 

Rickon laughed and handed me the bottle. I shot him a glare. “Can I at least get a glass?” 

Without a word, he reached into the compartment and pulled out two small glasses. I poured a little whiskey into one, taking a quick swig. The liquid burned on the way down, but it was better than entertaining his ridiculous question. 

“Your turn,” I didn’t even bother thinking too hard. “Why do you talk so much?” 

“Ah, a classic,” he said, rubbing his chin theatrically. “I talk because silence is boring, and life’s too short not to fill it with my sparkling personality.” 

“That’s not an answer,” I muttered, though a faint twitch at the corner of my mouth betrayed my amusement. 

“Take it or leave it,” he said with a shrug. 

The game 

continued, each question more absurd than the last. Rickon’s persistence was as grating as it was oddly disarming, and before long, the whiskey began to loosen the iron grip I usually kept on myself. Somewhere between Rickon asking if I’d ever actually smiled and me countering with how many people had tried to throttle him in his lifetime, I felt my shoulders begin to ease. 

“You ever thought about shutting up for five minutes?” I asked, refilling my glass. 

Rickon smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Never. My silence would deprive the world of my brilliance.” 

Despite myself, a faint, fleeting smile tugged at my lips. 

10:40 Sat, Jan 4 G. 

Chapter 127 

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“There it is!” Rickon crowed pointing at me like I was some rare animal he’d just spotted. “I knew you had one in you.” 

I shook my head, leaning back as the smile faded almost as quickly as it had come. “Don’t get used to it.” 

“Too late. I’m telling everyone back home that the Alpha King cracked a smile.” 

I didn’t bother responding, but I felt the warmth of the whiskey seep through me, softening the edges of the ever–present weight I carried. For a fleeting moment, I forgot about the expectations, the vigilance, and the constant need to keep myself guarded. 

But then it happened. 

The plane tilted sharply to the side, sending the bottle of whiskey rolling off the armrest. My wolf growled instantly, rising to attention, and every muscle in my body went rigid. Rickon straightened, his playful grin wiped clean off his face as he glanced at me, his instincts flaring to life. 

“What the hell was that?” he asked, his tone low and serious. 

I didn’t answer, my senses sharpening as I scanned the cabin. I had opted for no stewardess, just the pilot and co–pilot. I’d flown enough to prefer the quiet so it just just Rickon and I. 

Another sharp, jarring lurch made the entire plane groan, and I was halfway out of my seat before I caught myself. The low rumble of the engines faltered, followed by an eerie silence from the left side of the jet. 

“Grayson,” Rickon said, his voice tight, his usual bravado replaced by quiet tension. 

Before I could respond, the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. 

“This is your captain speaking. We’ve experienced an issue with one of the engines and are preparing for an emergency landing. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. I will keep you updated as we proceed.” 

The captain’s voice was calm, but the tension beneath it was unmistakable. My wolf growled within me, a primal sense of unease crawling up my spine. I wasn’t fooled by the practiced composure. 

Rickon, seated across from me, had already buckled his seatbelt, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. His green eyes were focused on me, narrowed with concern. “This doesn’t sound good, Grayson,” he said quietly, his voice edged with apprehension. 

I didn’t respond right away, my gaze locked on the cabin door, as though I could peer through it to the cockpit. My mind was racing through every possibility, but nothing added up. Why would my jet–one of the most advanced machines in the sky–be in trouble like this? 

“Stay alert,” I ordered, keeping my voice steady. 

Rickon nodded, his usual cocky demeanor gone. Even he, ever the optimist, couldn’t mask the tension in his body. The atmosphere had shifted. 

Something was very wrong. 

The plane tilted again, more sharply this time, and I felt the distinct drop in pressure in my stomach. The hum of the engines sputtered, sounding uncomfortably uneven. I gripped the armrests, my knuckles turning white as the unease in my gut grew. 

Another violent jolt rocked the plane, and the lights overhead flickered, casting the cabin in sudden dimness. The engine noise grew louder, more errátic. My stomach flipped, and I could feel my wolf’s agitation surge. My senses were on high alert. 

10:40 Sat, Jan 4) 

Chapter 127 

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“Grayson…” Rickon started, but his words were swallowed by the sharp crackle of the intercom coming to life once more. 

“This is your captain again,” the captain’s voice echoed, but now here was an unmistakable edge to his tone. “We’ve lost one engine. We’re gliding and attempting to make an emergency descent. We’re working to control the situation. Please remain calm.” 

The captain’s words hit me like a punch to the gut. A gliding descent meant that the plane wasn’t under full power. We were falling. Slowly, but still, we were falling. 

Rickon cursed under his breath, his hand gripping the armrest. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a raw tension. “What the hell does an emergency descent look like on a private jet?” he demanded. 

“It means we’re not going to make it to the airport,” I said coldly, already unbuckling my 

Rickon grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?” 

“Getting to the cockpit,” I growled, yanking my arm free. 

seatbelt. 

But just as I moved, the plane tilted once more–this time, far more violently. The nose dropped, and my stomach lurched as if it was being thrown to the floor. I barely managed to steady myself against the armrest, the sensation of falling overwhelming. 

“Grayson, sit the hell down!” Rickon shouted, panic creeping into his voice. 

I ignored him, pushing myself toward the aisle, determined to reach the cockpit. The plane shuddered beneath me, as if it were fighting to maintain its descent, the sound of the engines sputtering in the distance. The roar of the failing systems was deafening, and my wolf howled in my mind, urging me to act. 

Then, the captain’s voice came through again, and this time, it wasn’t calm. It was sharp, frantic. 

“Mayday, mayday! This is flight A–017! We’ve lost altitude rapidly–attempting emergency descent, but we’re not going to make it! I repeat, we are not going to make it—” 

The transmission abruptly cut off, replaced by static. The plane dipped again, hard, sending us into a sharp roll. A flash of light outside the window illuminated a vast stretch of dense forest–too close, much too close. 

Rickon’s voice cracked through the chaos. “Grayson, if you have any genius plan, now’s the time!” 

But I didn’t have a plan. All I had was instinct, the primal, unrelenting drive of the wolf within me. And as the ground raced toward us, one thought burned through the chaos in my mind: We are not dying here. 

The impact came too fast. The world tilted violently, throwing me off my feet as the sound of tearing metal and shattering glass filled the air. Pain flared sharp and hot as my head collided with something hard, and then- 

Everything went black. 

SEND GIFT