Chapter 433: The Sacrifice 1

Grayson pouted heavily, his lower lip sticking out like a moody child who had just been told he couldn’t have dessert. "What rules?" he grumbled flatly.

Mailah began ticking the rules off on her small fingers.

"Rule number one: You are no longer allowed to threaten service workers. That includes florists, baristas, taxi drivers, and the poor delivery man who brought your shoes yesterday."

Grayson grunted in protest. "The delivery man stepped on the driveway flowers! He lacked respect!"

"Rule number two," Mailah continued, ignoring his outburst. "You are not allowed to buy public property on an impulse. You cannot buy mountain cliffs, shoe stores, or city bakeries just because we had a nice time there."

"It was an investment!" Grayson argued loudly.

"Rule number three," Mailah said, poking his broad chest gently. "You must stop picking fights with Chloe over cookies, and you are not allowed to cut off her Wi-Fi."

Grayson narrowed his dark eyes into sharp slits. "She called my leather jacket delinquent gear! She insulted me!"

"Rule number four," Mailah added, her voice softening into a sweet, affectionate whisper as she wrapped her arms around his broad neck. "You must kiss me goodnight every single evening, and you must tell me you love me before we go to sleep."

Grayson froze.

His dramatic outrage evaporated into thin air in less than a second. He looked down at Mailah’s gentle face, her dark eyes shining with pure love, her soft lips parted in a sweet smile.

The ancient demon let out a long, defeated, swoon-worthy sigh. His broad shoulders slumped as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest and burying his face in her neck once more.

"You are a terrible tyrant, Mailah Ashford," Grayson muttered against her skin, though his deep voice was thick with helpless, overwhelming devotion. "You strip me of my power. You dictate my actions. You force me to treat bratty teenagers with mercy."

"Do we have a deal, my lord?" Mailah asked softly, running her fingers through his dark hair.

Grayson pulled back slightly, looking down at his human wife. He took her small hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips, and pressed a slow, reverent kiss against her skin.

"We have a deal, my queen," Grayson whispered softly, his blue eyes shining with absolute, everlasting love. "I accept your probation. I will follow your rules. Because a thousand years of rules is a tiny price to pay for a single night in your arms."

Mailah smiled warmly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his sharp lips. "Good boy."

"I am not a boy, I am an ancient—" Grayson began to argue grandly.

Mailah kissed him again, cutting off his speech mid-sentence.

Grayson melted instantly, his arms tightening around her as he sank back down onto the soft pillows, pulling his wife down on top of his chest. He pulled the thick velvet blanket over both of them, shielding them from the cool night air outside.

The bedroom fell completely quiet, saved only by the soft crackle of the dying fire.

Mailah rested her head over Grayson’s heart, listening to its steady, powerful thud. Grayson rested his hand over her back, his thumb gently stroking her skin through the silk gown, his dark eyes watching her until her breathing slowed into a peaceful, deep sleep.

And as the demon prince held his mortal queen safely in the dark, he smiled softly into the quiet room, completely content with his permanent place by her side.

The morning sun had barely crested the golden horizon when the heavy black smartphone on the nightstand began to hum with a sharp, low vibration.

Grayson’s eyes opened instantly.

He didn’t move an inch. He couldn’t. Mailah was sleeping peacefully against his chest, her head tucked snugly under his chin, one small arm draped over his waist. The thick velvet blanket kept them wrapped in a cozy cocoon of heat. Grayson looked down at her soft, relaxed face, his heart overflowing with a sweet, domestic warmth that no ancient power could ever match.

The phone hummed again.

Grayson reached out with one long, silent arm, picking up the device without disturbing Mailah by a single millimeter. He glanced at the glowing screen. The caller ID displayed a formal silver crest—the mark of the main Ashford Manor.

His sharp jaw tightened into a dark, irritated scowl.

He slid his thumb across the screen and brought the phone to his ear, dropping his deep voice into an icy, barely audible whisper. "This had better be an emergency of kingdom-shattering proportions, Lucson."

"Good morning to you too, little brother," came the smooth, cultured voice of his older brother, Lucson, echoing through the speaker. "I see your mood hasn’t improved despite returning to your precious estate."

"I am currently holding my wife," Grayson grumbled flatly into the receiver, his dark eyebrows pulling together. "State your business before I block this frequency."

Lucson let out a dry, aristocratic laugh. "As charming as ever. Unfortunately, duty calls. The council of exiles is meeting at the manor in two hours. Tensions are rising in the eastern district regarding territorial boundaries and human integration. Your presence is non-negotiable. Mason and I are already preparing the high chamber."

"Reschedule it," Grayson commanded grandly. "Tell the exiles to sit quietly and reflect on their life choices. I am on probation, Lucson. I have rules to follow."

There was a long, stunned silence on the other end of the line.

"Did you... did you just say you are on probation?" Lucson asked, sounding thoroughly bewildered. "You are an ancient demon who commanded hundreds of souls! Who put you on probation?"

"My queen," Grayson stated with absolute, unyielding pride. "And her word is law in this universe. Now goodbye."

"Grayson, do not hang up—"

Grayson ended the call with a firm tap of his thumb and tossed the phone onto the plush rug beside the bed. He let out a dramatic, moody sigh, leaning his chin back down against Mailah’s dark waves.

"Was that your brother?" a soft, sleepy voice murmured against his chest.

Mailah stirred, her long eyelashes fluttering open. She looked up at him with misty eyes, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of sleep. She reached up, her small hand rubbing her eyes before resting gently on his cheek.

Grayson’s heart melted into complete liquid. He immediately leaned down, pressing a slow, sweet kiss against her forehead, then her cheek, and finally the corner of her lips.

"It was Lucson," Grayson murmured affectionately, his large hand gently smoothing down her tangled hair. "He is being thoroughly unreasonable. He demands my presence at the manor for a tedious meeting about exile affairs."

Mailah blinked, sitting up slightly and leaning on her elbow. "A meeting with your brothers? Today?"

"Yes," Grayson pouted, his lower lip sticking out in a moody sulk that looked wildly out of place on his sharp, handsome face. "They expect me to leave this bed, leave this house, and leave you to go sit in a cold stone room and listen to old demons complain about property lines. It is an insult to my soul."

Mailah let out a sweet, bubbling giggle, reaching out to smooth down the dark collar of his robe. "Grayson, you are one of the leaders of the exiles. You have responsibilities. You can’t just ignore your brothers."

"I can," Grayson insisted grandly, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her back down onto his chest. "I am a master of ignoring things I do not like. I have ignored entire centuries before."

"You are going to the meeting," Mailah said firmly, though her dark eyes were dancing with sweet warmth. She poked his broad chest gently. "It is important. And besides, we have my physical therapy session scheduled for this afternoon anyway."

At the mention of physical therapy, Grayson’s blue eyes lit up with intense, dramatic pride.

"Which is precisely why I cannot go!" Grayson declared triumphantly, sitting up abruptly and bringing Mailah into his lap. He grabbed her small hands, looking into her eyes with intense focus. "I am your physical therapist! I have to stay here today and flex your leg!"

Mailah let out a sweet, helpless laugh, trailing her fingers over his sharp jaw.

"Grayson," Mailah smiled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his pouting lips. "I can survive if I miss one day of therapy. Or I can just do the light stretches myself."

Grayson gasped in complete, horrified shock, his eyes wide. "Do it yourself?! Absolutely not! What if you bend your knee two millimeters too far? What if your muscle gets tired? I am the only one allowed to handle your recovery!"

"Which is why one rest day will not kill me," Mailah insisted gently, wrapping her arms around his broad neck. "You are going to that meeting with your brothers."

Grayson pouted as he buried his face in the curve of her neck with a low, dramatic groan. "You really are a terrible tyrant, Mailah."

He let out a long sigh, gently lowering her back down onto the soft pillows. He pulled the thick velvet blanket up over her shoulders, tucking her in tightly like a precious gift. He leaned down, pressing a slow, sweet kiss against her forehead, his large hand gently smoothing down her long, dark waves.

"Go back to sleep, my love," Grayson whispered softly into the quiet room. "The sun has not even risen yet. We will talk about this when you wake up."

Mailah let out a sleepy, contented sigh, resting her cheek against the pillow. Within minutes, her breathing slowed back into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When the morning sun finally passed the horizon, Grayson carefully slipped out of bed, making sure not to disturb his sleeping wife.

He dressed in a dark charcoal suit that fit his broad frame perfectly, looking like an immortal prince ready to rule. But inside, his mind was a storm of dark worry and petty frustration.

He walked down the grand marble staircase into the foyer, where Mrs. Baker was already standing by the coat rack with a silver tray.

"Mrs. Baker," Grayson commanded sternly, pacing back and forth across the polished floor with long, restless strides. "I must leave for the Ashford Manor to deal with council business. I am leaving my wife in this house. If anything happens while I am gone, you will call my mobile immediately."

"She will be completely safe, Mr. Ashford," Mrs. Baker replied calmly, not blinking an eye.

"If she cries, call me. If she looks like she’s in danger, call me," Grayson instructed, pointing a long, sharp finger at her. "And keep a close eye on Chloe."

He turned toward the front door, pulling his phone from his suit pocket. He stared at the screen with a dark, heavy scowl.

He hated the idea of Mailah skipping her physical therapy. Her leg still ached when she walked down the stairs, and he knew that missing a day would slow down her recovery. He wanted to do the exercises with her himself, but his brothers were waiting at the manor, and exile business could not be delayed any longer.

Grayson clenched his jaw so hard a muscle twitched near his cheekbone. His incubus pride roared against what he was about to do, but his deep love for Mailah won easily. Her healing mattered far more than his petty jealousy.

With a heavy, dramatic sigh, he dialed Dr. Morrison’s number.