The Alpha King's Contracted Luna (Ava and Grayson) novel Chapter 136

Chapter 136 

Chapter 136 

-Grayson’s POV- 

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Alaric’s words struck like thunder, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. My chest tightened, my instincts screaming that whatever I was about to hear would change everything I thought I knew. Without a word, I followed him deeper into the chamber, each step echoing against the cold, unyielding stone walls. 

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The air grew heavier, thick with an ancient tension that pressed down on my chest. We stopped in front of a massive mural, its edges bathed in an otherworldly blue glow that seemed to pulse like a heartbeat. The mural was intricate and dark, its center dominated by a figure cloaked in shadows, its form blending with the chaos around it. 

“This,” Alaric began, his voice low and deliberate, “is where the story of the Blackwood legacy takes its darkest turn.” 

I stepped closer, studying the intricate carvings. The figure stood surrounded by wolves with their heads bowed, not in reverence but in unmistakable fear. Around them, the forest was aflame, the trees twisted and scorched, their branches like skeletal hands reaching out for mercy. 

“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. 

Alaric’s usual smirk was gone, replaced by a solemn expression that made my stomach churn. “As you must know by now, Grayson, no lineage is without its blemishes. Even the strongest have their weaknesses.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. 

“The Blackwood lineage,” he continued, his tone grave, “became the beacon of unity and strength, keeping the wolves together under a shared vision of peace. But power,” he said, his voice sharp and bitter, “can corrupt even the noblest of intentions. And so it did.” 

He gestured to a section of the mural where the shadowed figure now stood atop a mountain of bones, its claws dripping with blood. Around it, the wolves who had once knelt in unity had turned against each other, their snarls and howls frozen in chaotic disarray. 

“One of your ancestors,” Alaric said, his voice laced with disdain, “decided that being the Alpha King wasn’t enough. He saw himself not as a protector, but as a ruler—one above all, even the goddess who made us.” 

His words aligned eerily with the words Maria had told me, but I held my tongue, letting him continue. 

Alaric moved his hand across the mural, guiding my eyes to a figure I instinctively recognized as my ancestor, “Darius Blackwood was arrogant beyond measure. He openly questioned the existence of the Moon Goddess, mocking the idea of bowing to what he called a ‘superficial female. In his mind, women were inherently inferior, and the idea that his strength and power came from a goddess was an affront to his pride.” 

The carvings told the story even as Alaric spoke. Darius, standing tall and defiant, his sneer etched into the stone. Around him, wolves cowered or snarled, caught between fear and rebellion. 

“The Moon Goddess,” Alaric continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “did not let such blasphemy go unpunished. But her response was not one of anger–it was one of lessons. She descended, cloaked in light, and laid a curse upon Darius. Since he believed women to be inferior, his very survival would depend on one. She decreed that his lineage would be bound to their fated mates, chosen solely by her. They could only find true strength through this bond. Without their mate, their power would diminish, leaving them vulnerable and weak and it is a curse which would not be spoken of.” 

The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest. “So this… curse,” I said slowly, “it’s why…” 

“Why you are just now learning of it?” Alaric finished for me. “Yes. That’s part of it. The curse was designed so that the truth could not simply be told–it had to be discovered through experience and suffering. Even your father couldn’t tell you, Grayson. He wasn’t allowed to.” 

Alaric continued, his voice taking on a more urgent tone. “Darius, in his desperation, sought a way to break the curse. He 

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turned to a pack known for their connection to the Moon Goddess–a pack with unparalleled healing abilities. A pack that is now led by…” 

“Luther Pierce,” I said, the pieces falling into place. “That’s why they’re the best healers. That’s why Ava is so good at what she does.” 

Alaric nodded. “Even they couldn’t undo the Moon Goddess’s decree. But they did strike a pact with Darius. They promised that when the time came, a wolf of pure blood from their lineage would be born–a wolf who could bind the fate of the Alpha King’s bloodline and break the curse. But there was a condition: the Alpha King’s descendant would have to find her, recognize her, and form the bond willingly. The pact passed down through generations, growing stronger with each new Alpha King.” 

He stepped closer to another section of the mural, this one depicting two infants. “By the time you were born, Grayson, the curse had reached its peak. And when Evelyn Pierce took in with child, the prophecy was set into motion. You were the descendant chosen to undo it before your line vanquished. But fate was cruel because she was pregnant with twins and the essence wasn’t meant to be shared. The Pierces were forced to make an impossible choice: save one twin by transferring the pure blood entirely into her, or lose both.” 

I stared at the carving, my chest tightening at the sight of the two babies. One was glowing faintly, her form etched with light and divine energy, while the other lay shadowed and fragile, her outline barely visible against the stone. 

“They chose to save one,” Alaric said, his voice heavy with the weight of the story. “The essence was transferred into one of the Pierce twin, the one born with the strength to carry it. But the other twin…” He hesitated, his expression softening for a brief moment, “…she was left weak, her survival hanging by a thread. She lived, but she would never be whole–not in the way her sister was.” 

I didn’t understand. 

If Ava was the twin that survived and the child Evelyn and Luther raised, didn’t that mean she was my fated mate? That would explain the connection I felt with her–the undeniable pull, the fire in my veins every time I was near her. But then, what about the other twin? And did Ava even know she had a twin? 

Alaric smiled faintly, his expression tinged with sympathy. “I can sense your confusion, Grayson, but I’m afraid there’s little I can do to clear the fog entirely. The story isn’t finished.” 

He stepped closer to the mural, gesturing toward a particular section. “Losing one of their daughters became an unthinkable reality for Evelyn and Luther and to cement that reality even more, that night… one of the twins was stolen.” His finger hovered over a faint outline etched into the stone–an image of a child surrounded by shadow. Above it was a symbol, a question mark carved into the wall. 

“And who took her?” I asked, my voice sharp with desperation. 

Alaric shook his head. “That is an answer we still don’t have to this day” He paused, his gaze lingering on the symbol. “The stolen twin was the one chosen by the Moon Goddess, the one the essence was transferred to. She is alive–of that, we are certain–but her whereabouts remain a mystery.” 

I felt the blood drain from my face as his words sank in. “And Ava?” I forced the words out, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the 

answer. 

“She was the weaker twin,” Alaric said gently. “She survived, but he was never the right one. Luther and Evelyn raised her, trying desperately to shape her into what they had lost. But no matter what they did, she could never truly be what they wanted her to be.” 

My head started to spin. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with a truth I wasn’t ready to face. That was why Evelyn and Luther hated me so much. Their bitterness ran deeper than mere disdain. It was the curse. It had taken one of their children and left them grasping at the shards of what remained. 

Different thoughts swirled in my mind, colliding into a storm of confusion and anger. But Alaric wasn’t finished. 

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