Beasts With Beauty

Chapter 3

Grayson's POV

Light had weight here.

Grayson didn’t understand how that was possible, but he felt it pressing gently against his skin, sinking into his bones like something alive. Every breath he took tasted clean—too clean—like the world had been stripped of anything imperfect.

He hated it.

Not because it was wrong.

Because it wasn’t home.

She’s still there.

The thought came suddenly—and it wasn’t entirely his.

Grayson stilled.

“Marcella?”

Silence.

But not empty silence.

Something… faint lingered at the edge of his mind, like a thread stretched too far but not completely broken.

Azriel stirred.

The bond is still there, his wolf said quietly. We’re just… too far.

Grayson clenched his jaw.

They’d never been apart like this. Not once in eighteen years. Even when they weren’t physically together, he could feel her—like a constant presence just beneath the surface of his thoughts.

Now—

It was like trying to hear a voice underwater.

Still there.

But distant.

Distorted.

“Frustrating, isn’t it?”

Grayson turned sharply.

The angel from before stood a few steps behind him, hands clasped behind his back, expression as composed as ever.

“You’re still here,” Grayson said flatly.

“This is your home now,” the angel replied. “It would be strange if I wasn’t.”

Grayson ignored that.

“What did you do to me?”

“Nothing you weren’t already becoming.”

“That’s not an answer.”

The angel’s gaze sharpened slightly.

“My name is Seraphiel,” he said. “And I’ve been assigned as your guide.”

“I don’t need one.”

“That’s not your decision to make.”

Grayson stepped closer, tension rolling off him.

“I didn’t agree to any of this.”

Seraphiel didn’t flinch.

“No,” he said. “But your existence was never based on agreement.”

That again.

Fate.

Purpose.

Like everything about his life had already been decided before he ever got a say.

Grayson exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his dark hair.

“Then start explaining,” he said. “Because right now, all I see is a bunch of angels kidnapping me and calling it destiny.”

Seraphiel studied him for a moment.

Then, finally—

“You are not here as a prisoner,” he said. “You are here because the balance between realms is breaking. And you are one half of the only force capable of restoring it.”

“Me and Marcella.”

“Yes.”

Grayson’s chest tightened at her name.

“You separated us.”

“For a reason.”

“Yeah?” Grayson’s voice hardened. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you just handed her over to demons.”

Seraphiel didn’t respond immediately.

And that hesitation—

That told Grayson everything he needed to know.

His fists clenched.

“If anything happens to her—”

“It already has,” a new voice interrupted.

Grayson turned.

And for the first time since arriving—

The light didn’t feel suffocating.

It felt… focused.

Drawn toward a single point.

She stood at the far end of the walkway, descending slowly toward them.

Her wings weren’t like the others.

Where the angels around them glowed gold—

Hers shimmered silver and white, threaded with something softer. Something almost lunar.

Her presence didn’t crush.

It pulled.

Grayson felt it immediately.

Like gravity shifting.

Like something deep inside him recognizing something it had been waiting for.

Azriel went still.

There she is.

Grayson swallowed.

Azalea Moon.

He didn’t need to be told.

He just knew.

Her gaze met his.

And everything else—

The city.

The angels.

The distance between him and his sister—

Faded.

For a split second, it was just them.

Then she stopped a few feet away.

“You shouldn’t have brought him like this,” she said, her voice calm but edged with quiet authority.

Seraphiel inclined his head.

“The timing was necessary.”

“Necessary doesn’t mean right.”

Grayson blinked.

She was… arguing with him?

About him?

Azalea’s attention shifted fully to Grayson.

And whatever she saw—

It softened her expression, just slightly.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

The words caught him off guard.

“You’re… apologizing?”

“You were taken without choice,” she said. “That should not have been your introduction to this realm.”

Grayson let out a short, humorless breath.

“Yeah. Not exactly the welcome I would’ve picked.”

Something almost like a smile flickered at the corner of her lips.

Then it faded.

“You’re trying to reach her,” Azalea said.

Grayson froze.

“…What?”

“Your sister,” she clarified. “You’re searching for her through your bond.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“How do you—”

“Because I can feel it too.”

That hit differently.

Grayson studied her more carefully now.

“You’re connected to this,” he said slowly. “To me.”

Azalea didn’t deny it.

“No,” she said quietly. “I’m bound to it.”

Azriel stirred again.

Mate.

The word settled heavily in his chest.

Grayson exhaled slowly.

“Of course you are.”

Azalea tilted her head slightly.

“You sound… disappointed.”

Grayson shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Just tired of things being decided for me.”

Something in her expression shifted at that.

Understanding.

“Then don’t let them be,” she said.

That wasn’t what he expected.

Seraphiel frowned slightly.

“Your Majesty—”

“I’m speaking to him,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Silence fell.

Grayson watched her carefully.

“You’re the Angel Queen,” he said.

“I am.”

“And you’re telling me I have a choice?”

“I’m telling you,” she said, stepping closer, “that power doesn’t mean anything if you don’t decide how to use it.”

Her eyes held his.

And for a second—

Something flickered.

A flash.

Not in the world around him—

But in his mind.

Light.

Blinding.

A battlefield.

Marcella—

Covered in blood.

Grayson staggered back slightly.

“What—”

The vision vanished as quickly as it came.

His breathing picked up.

Azriel growled low.

That wasn’t normal.

No.

It wasn’t.

Grayson looked back at Azalea, his pulse racing.

“What did you just do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” she said, her voice tightening slightly. “What did you see?”

He hesitated.

Then—

“A battlefield,” he said. “Marcella was there.”

Saying her name out loud made the distance feel sharper.

“Was she alive?” Azalea asked quietly.

Grayson swallowed.

“…I don’t know.”

That wasn’t entirely true.

But he wasn’t ready to say the rest.

Azalea’s gaze searched his.

“Then it’s starting sooner than we thought.”

Grayson’s jaw tightened.

“What is?”

She held his gaze.

“Your power.”

Silence stretched between them.

Grayson’s mind raced.

Future.

He’d seen the future.

That wasn’t possible.

Except—

With everything else about him—

Maybe it was.

“I’m not ready for that,” he said.

Azalea’s expression softened again, just slightly.

“No one ever is.”

Grayson looked away, running a hand over the back of his neck.

“This is insane.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

That made him glance back at her.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I’ve had longer to process it,” she said.

“Right,” he muttered. “Because you’ve known about me.”

“Yes.”

Grayson let out a slow breath.

“Then tell me something useful,” he said. “Because right now, I’ve got visions I don’t understand, a sister I can’t reach, and a destiny

I didn’t ask for.”

Azalea stepped closer again.

Close enough now that he could feel the pull between them more clearly.

Stronger.

More real.

“You want something useful?” she said.

Grayson met her gaze.

“Yeah.”

Her voice dropped slightly.

“Then hold onto that connection you feel with her,” she said. “Because if what you saw is even partially true—”

She paused.

And for the first time—

There was something like fear in her eyes.

“You’re going to need it.”

Grayson’s chest tightened.

Marcella.

Wherever she was—

Whatever was happening—

He needed to reach her.

And this time—

He didn’t hesitate.

He closed his eyes.

Focused.

Pushed past the distance—

Past the silence—

Past the impossible weight separating them—

Marcella

For a split second—

Nothing.

Then—

A flicker.

Darkness.

Fire.

And a voice—

Faint.

But hers.

Grayson…?

His eyes snapped open.

“She’s there,” he breathed.

Azalea stepped closer instantly.

“You reached her?”

“Barely,” he said. “But yeah.”

Relief hit him harder than expected.

Followed immediately by something else.

Determination.

Grayson straightened slightly, his gaze hardening.

“Then I’m not staying here doing nothing.”

Azalea studied him.

“Good,” she said quietly.

Because something had just shifted.

And for the first time since being taken—

Grayson wasn’t just reacting anymore.

He was starting to fight back.