The Alpha King's Contracted Luna by Nelson Claudia

Chapter 234

-Grayson'’s POV-

“Ava is carrying twins.”

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| paused for only a fraction of a second before continuing forward, my shoes crunching against the uneven stone

beneath me. The crowded alley was alive with murmured conversations, the scent of herbs, burning incense, and

something metallic lingering in the air. Around us, people moved through the marketplace, bartering, whispering,

vanishing into corners.

Evelyn Pierce's voice cut through it all like a blade again, “Did you hear what | said?”

| exhaled through my nose, resisting the urge to snap, “It is very hard not to hear you, considering how blatantly

annoying you sound,” | said flatly, not breaking stride, “And | know exactly what you're trying to do. It won't

work. We agreed to do this without speaking to each other. Stop speaking to me.”

“It is this disrespectful attitude of yours-"

| stopped abruptly, turning to face her, my patience thinning faster than I liked, “Do you ever stop?” My voice

was quiet, but the frustration was there, buried beneath forced composure, “After all this time, do you not just

stop?” | studied her, the way she held herself, chin high, shoulders squared, a woman who had never once

considered that she could be wrong.

She waited, her lips pressing into a thin line, but | wasn’t finished.

“| started all of this as a completely different person. | didn’t see past the hate, the walls | had built around

myself. And then | met Ava. She madewant to be happy. She madewant to see the world the way | used

to, before my father-before all of it turnedinto this.” | gestured vaguely to myself. “But you? You had her for

twenty-four years with her, and still— nothing changed.”

Evelyn clicked her tongue, the condescending sound grating against my nerves, “I raised my daughter properly

in those twenty-four years.”

“No,” | said, shaking my head as | stared at her, “You caged her. You controlled her. And you made her

miserable.” | saw it now, clearer than ever. And as much as | hated to admit it, Damien had been right about

that. “And in many ways,” | exhaled, the weight of it settling on my chest, “I've done the same.”

Evelyn's eyes narrowed slightly, something flickering across her face, but it was gone before | could nit,

“You and | are not the same, Grayson.”

| scoffed, “No?”

“No.” She smoothed a hand down the front of her dress, as if this was merely a polite debate rather than the

unraveling of decades of damage, “Everything | did, | did to protect her.”

I laughed dryly, shaking my head. “That's the thing about you, Evelyn. You always think you know best. But tell

me-who exactly were you protecting her from? The world? Or yourself?”

Evelyn's expression remained unreadable. Around us, the market pulsed with life, people of all kinds moving

through the thick air. The dim, flickering lanterns cast long shadows against the stone walls, and in the distance,

a woman with red- stained hands crushed something between her palms, whispering in a language | didn’t

understand.

“You act as if | should apologize,” Evelyn said finally, her tone void of remorse. “As if | should feel guilt for raising

my daughter the way | saw fit.”

“Guilt?” | repeated, biting back a bitter laugh. “You should feel guilt. You should feel shame. You spent twenty-

four years breaking her spirit, and for what? Because you thought keeping her locked away in that estate would

make her stronger? That it would make her like you?” | stepped closer, my voice low. “You're a woman who

mistakes control for love. And the worst part? You don’t even see it.”

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Chapter 234

She stared at me, silent for a long moment. Then, with deliberate precision, she reached up and adjusted the

clasp of the necklace around her throat. A familiar gesture, one I'd seen Ava do when she was uncomfortable.

“The choices | made were not mistakes,” Evelyn said finally, her voice measured, “I shaped Ava into the woman

she is today. A woman strong enough to carry the weight of her bloodline.”

| exhaled slowly, shaking my head. “That's just it, Evelyn. She was already strong.” | turned away, scanning the

market, my eyes searching for any sign of the High Priestess we were after. And yet, here | was, wasting breath

arguing with a woman who would never change.

Evelyn kept pace beside me, undeterred, “You seem awfully defensive for someone who's so sure of himself.”

| ignored her.

“If I were truly wrong about everything, if my choices had been so destructive, then why does Ava still seek my

approval?” She tilted her head slightly, “Why does she still want to please me?”

| clenched my jaw.

Evelyn smiled, a slow, knowing curve of her lips. “You think love alone is enough, Grayson. That's where you and

| differ. Love is fleeting. Love is fragile. But power?” She gestured around us. “Power is the only thing that

endures.”

“You sound just like my father,” | said coldly.

Evelyn arched a brow, “Your father was a fool and of all the Blackwoods | have lived to see, he was the worst of

them.”

“And yet, here you are,” | said, meeting her gaze, “with no one who actually loves you because what you and

Luther have is nothing but a companionship.”

The words landed between us like a knife, sharp and cutting. For a moment, just a moment, | thought | saw

something crack in her expression. But then she smoothed it away, that practiced, unshakable mask slipping

back into place.

“Love is overrated,” She said lightly, as if the conversation bored her, “But | suppose you already know that,

don’t you?”

| clenched my fists, forcing myself to inhale deeply through my nose. She wanted to provoke me. She wanted to

get under my skin. And | wouldn't let her.

Instead, | refocused on the task at hand.

The market stretched before us, stalls stacked with things that shouldn't exist. A jar of teeth, each one still

bloodstained. Feathers from a creature | had never seen. Bottles filled with swirling gold liquid, whispering if you

listened closely enough. A vendor with hollowed-out eyes grinned at me, his smile stretched too wide.

Somewhere in this chaos was the High Priestess.

And Evelyn, whether | liked it or not, was my only lead to finding her.

| turned back to her, exhaling sharply, “Enough of this.”

Evelyn lifted a brow, “Tired of our little heart-to-heart?”

| glared at her, “You seem to know a lot about this High Priestess-someone no one even knew existed before

now. That's the only reason you're here, so why don’t you focus on finding her before Damien does?”.

Evelyn didn’t so much as blink. Instead, she let out an exasperated sigh, “Seems I'm not the only one who

dislikes listening because, as | already told you, you won't find her and that is why Damien hasn't yet even with

all his connections. She will find us.”

| clenched my jaw, “And what makes you so sure she will?”

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Before Evelyn could answer, a voice drifted from lelund us low and knowing

“Because | would never miss the chance to see

Turned sharply, my hand already hovering near my gun but the figure standing before us wasn’t a threat at least,

not in the way | expected.

An older woman stood at the edge of the market's dim lantern. Her silver hair was woven into intricate brands,

her features striking despite her age then she smiled, my daughter,” She finished, her gaze sending in Evelyn

with eerie fondness, “fre good to see you, Lily”

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