Chapter 438: The Other Grayson

Mailah’s eyes fluttered open.

The silver moon, the misty valley, and the grand velvet coat were all gone.

Instead, warm morning sunlight was pouring through the sheer linen curtains of their master bedroom, painted in soft shades of gold across the white duvet.

Mailah took a slow, deep breath. The familiar, comforting scent of rain and dark oak wood filled her lungs. She shifted slightly, immediately feeling the heavy, solid warmth pressed against her side.

Grayson was still in bed.

Mailah blinked, staring at him in genuine surprise.

This was a rare sight. Usually, by the time the first ray of sunlight hit the windowsill, Grayson was already up. He was either in the kitchen wearing a neat apron, meticulously slicing fresh fruit and making coffee, or he was downstairs in his dark suit, quietly handling urgent Ashford clan business before she even opened her eyes.

But right now, the great, terrifying demon lord was fast asleep beside her.

One of his long, heavy arms was wrapped securely around her waist, anchoring her against his broad chest. His dark hair was messy, falling over his forehead in soft, uneven locks. His sharp jaw and normally intense blue eyes were completely relaxed, his long dark lashes resting softly against his skin. He looked impossibly handsome, peaceful, and entirely vulnerable.

Mailah smiled softly. The thirteen hours of human paperwork, police reports, and dealing with rogue shadows yesterday had truly drained him to his very core.

She reached out, gently using her fingers to brush a lock of dark hair away from his forehead.

Grayson let out a low, sleepy rumble deep in his throat. He didn’t open his eyes. Instead, he blindly shifted his weight, burying his face deeper into the crook of her neck like a stubborn, oversized cat refusing to move. His long arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer into his body.

"Too early..." Grayson mumbled, his voice deep, rough, and thick with sleep. "The sun is far too loud today..."

Mailah let out a quiet giggle, her heart melting at his raspy morning voice. "You can’t complain about that, Grayson. That’s just morning."

"Then I will abolish mornings," Grayson grumbled softly against her collarbone, his warm breath tickling her skin.

"You have to get up eventually," Mailah teased gently, running her fingers lightly through the back of his hair. "Who is going to make me my breakfast?"

Grayson groaned, a long, dramatic sound of pure misery, but he slowly lifted his head from her shoulder. He squinted at her through heavy, sleepy eyes, his dark brows pulled together in a pout that was far too cute for a three-thousand-year-old demon.

"You are cruel to your tired husband," Grayson rasped, though a soft, affectionate light sparkled deep in his blue eyes. "I sat on a wooden crate for eight hours yesterday. My back is broken. My dark soul is shattered. I deserve five more hours of sleep."

"You do deserve sleep," Mailah murmured softly, reaching up to cup his cheek with her warm palm. "In fact, you were so tired that you dream-walked while you were sleeping."

Grayson froze.

His sleepy, half-closed eyes opened wide. He blinked rapidly, looking up at her with a sudden, sharp look of confusion.

"I... what?" Grayson asked, his deep voice suddenly losing all its lazy sleepiness.

"You dream-walked," Mailah repeated gently, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. "I saw you in my dream just now. You were standing on a grand marble balcony above a misty valley, wearing that dark midnight-blue velvet coat you used to love so much."

Grayson stared at her in total shock. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto one elbow, looking down at her with a flustered, disbelieving expression.

"I dream-walked?!" Grayson stammered, his cheeks turning a light shade of red. "No... that is impossible. I was fast asleep! I didn’t intend to visit anyone’s dreams last night. "

"You didn’t need to," Mailah explained, leaning up slightly to look into his eyes. "You came into my dream to feed, Grayson."

Grayson’s jaw practically dropped. He looked as if Mailah had just accused him of committing a terrible crime in broad daylight.

"To... to feed?!" Grayson gasped, his voice cracking slightly before he quickly cleared his throat to regain his dignity. He sat straight up in bed, the duvet falling around his waist, his messy hair sticking out in all directions as he tried to look grand and serious. "I did no such thing! I do not go around sneaking into my wife’s dreams like a thief in the night to consume energy without her permission!"

"Grayson, calm down," Mailah laughed, covering her mouth as he gestured wildly with his hands.

"I will not calm down!" Grayson declared grandly, throwing his head back in offense. "This is slander! I am a creature of high status! If I were to feed, I would do it properly! With candlelight! With soft music! With grand romance! I would not do it while drooling on a pillow!"

"You weren’t drooling," Mailah giggled, sitting up beside him and pulling the blanket over her knees. "And you didn’t steal anything. I gave it to you willingly."

Grayson stopped his grand speech. He turned his head slowly, looking at her with wide, uncertain blue eyes.

"You... gave it to me?" he asked softly, his dramatic tone melting away into genuine confusion.

"Yes," Mailah said gently. "You were so weak and exhausted from yesterday that your body must have done it on its own. You took a tiny bit of my peaceful energy. It didn’t hurt at all. It just felt warm and sweet."

Grayson stared at her for a long moment, completely speechless.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and turned his attention inward, checking the dark core of his demon strength. For the past two days, ever since he had pushed himself to secure the sanctuary, his energy had been feeling cold, hollow, and sharp around the edges. But right now, as he checked his core, he felt a deep, steady warmth flowing through his veins. His dark energy was completely calm, restored, and full.

He really had fed. His incubus instincts had taken over while his mind was asleep, seeking out the one source of safety and comfort his soul knew—her.

A deep, dark blush crept all the way up Grayson’s neck to the tips of his ears. He buried his face in his hands, letting out a heavy, embarrassed groan.

"This is awful..." Grayson muffled through his fingers, looking utterly defeated. "I am supposed to protect you. Instead, I acted like a hungry monster while I was asleep..."

"You weren’t a monster," Mailah said softly, reaching out to gently pull his hands away from his face. "You were sweet. And... it wasn’t just any version of you."

Grayson looked up at her through his dark lashes, his eyebrows pulling together. "What do you mean?"

Mailah took a deep breath, her heart giving a small, tender thud as she remembered the feeling of his velvet coat under her fingers.

"It was the old Grayson," Mailah whispered softly. "The version of you before you lost your memories."

Grayson’s whole body went rigid. The room grew suddenly quiet, save for the gentle rustle of the wind outside the window.

"My... past self?" Grayson asked, his deep voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Mailah smiled softly, her eyes shining with emotion. "At first, he tried to act cold and scary. He told me human life force tastes like bitter turnips."

Grayson quickly looked away. "That... that sounds like something I would say back then..."

"He did," Mailah chuckled quietly.

"And then..." Mailah continued, her smile turning slightly bittersweet, "...he brought up the wedding day. He apologized to me, Grayson."

Grayson’s breath caught in his throat. "He apologized?"

"He said he was so sorry I was left waiting at the altar alone in my dress," Mailah whispered, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

The atmosphere in the sunlit room shifted, growing heavy with raw, unshielded emotion.

Grayson stared at the small tear rolling down her cheek. Without thinking, he reached out, his long, warm thumb gently wiping the tear away from her skin. His chest ached with a sudden, overwhelming wave of devotion.

"Mailah..." Grayson rasped softly, his voice trembling slightly.

"When he said that," Mailah said, looking up into his eyes, "I realized it was really him. The soul of the man I lost. I just rushed forward and hugged him with everything I had. And he held me back so tightly, Grayson."

Grayson sat there, completely still, processing her words.

In his ancient mind, he didn’t have the clear, picture-like memories of that wedding day. He didn’t remember the color of the flowers or the sound of the music. But hearing her say those words, he could feel the ghost of that heavy pain in his chest—the horror of being dragged away from the woman he loved, the desperate agony of wanting to run back to her, and the sweet, sweet relief of finally holding her again in a dream.

Slowly, he pulled his hand back, folding his broad arms over his chest, looking down at the duvet with a sudden, competitive huff.

"I see," Grayson grumbled grandly, tossing his messy hair back with a dramatic flick of his head. "So my past self got to hold you while I was lying here sleeping like a fool?"

Mailah blinked, totally caught off guard by his sudden change in mood. "Wait... are you... are you jealous of yourself?!"

"I am not jealous!" Grayson declared, his voice rising in dramatic outrage as he sat up even straighter. "That past version of me was a dramatic, overly theatrical idiot who wore velvet in the middle of summer! He left you waiting at an altar! I am the version who comes home to you, signs two hundred papers to keep you safe, and lets you rub my back when I am sick!"

Mailah burst into a loud, clear laugh that filled the entire room with warmth.

"Grayson, you are the exact same person!"

"We are completely different!" Grayson argued passionately, pointing a finger at his own chest. "He gave you a single rose in a dream! I am going to buy you five whole rose bushes for the garden! He told you to eat organic berries! I am going to build you a whole berry greenhouse!"

Mailah covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably with laughter. "You are ridiculous! You’re competing with your own soul!"

"I am winning against my own soul!" Grayson corrected with supreme pride, thrusting his chin into the air.

He leaned over, wrapping both of his long arms around her waist, lifting her easily off the pillows and pulling her directly onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent deeply.

Mailah wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, holding him close, her laughter slowly fading into a sweet, peaceful sigh.

"Thank you, Grayson," Mailah whispered softly against his ear.

Grayson paused, his grip softening as he held her gently against his chest. "For what, my love?"

"For coming back to me," Mailah murmured softly.

Grayson felt a golden warmth spread through his whole chest, melting away every last trace of his petty pride and grand posturing.

He pulled back just enough to look into her soft dark eyes. His blue eyes were glowing with a light so warm, so fierce, and so deeply devoted that Mailah felt her breath catch in her throat. He looked at her not as a demon prince ruling over shadows, but as a man whose entire universe began and ended with her.

"I will always find my way back to you," Grayson rasped, his deep voice dropping into a smooth, breathtaking whisper.

Mailah’s heart swelled to the brim. She leaned in, pressing her lips gently against his.