Chapter 69: Chapter 69: The Last Day
STILLNESS lingered like glass about to shatter, disturbed only by the quiet crumble of debris and Mailah’s shaky inhale.
Broken glass crunched under her bare feet as she took an unconscious step backward, her mind reeling from Carson’s poisonous suggestions.
Had everything been orchestrated? The timing of Lailah’s death, the letter that had led her here, even her own desperate decision to take her sister’s place—had any of it been real choice, or had she been dancing to invisible strings all along?
"Mailah."
Grayson’s voice was careful, controlled, but she could hear the undercurrent of something raw beneath it. When she looked up at him, she found his storm-blue eyes searching her face with an intensity that made her chest tighten.
"I don’t know what’s real anymore," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. The morning light streaming through the cracked windows felt suddenly cold, and she realized she was shivering. "Carson made it sound like... like I never had a choice in any of this."
Grayson moved toward her slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal that might bolt at any sudden movement. "Whatever brought you here," he said, his voice low and fierce, "whatever forces may have been at play—what you’re feeling now, what we have between us, that’s real. I would know if it wasn’t."
"Would you?" The question escaped before she could stop it, and she watched something flicker across his features—hurt, quickly masked but not before she caught it.
"Carson said your family has a talent for manipulation. How do I know—how do either of us know—that what we feel isn’t just another layer of the game?"
The words hung in the air between them like accusations, and Mailah immediately wanted to take them back. But doubt, once planted, was a virulent thing, spreading through her thoughts like poison.
Grayson went very still, his expression shifting into something she’d never seen before.
For a moment, she glimpsed the man beneath the demon, the being who had loved and lost and blamed himself for the destruction that followed.
"You think I’m manipulating you," he said quietly, and it wasn’t a question.
Mailah opened her mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. Because wasn’t that exactly what she was thinking? Wasn’t that the seed Carson had so expertly planted?
"I think," she said carefully, "that I don’t know anything anymore. I thought I was making my own choices, but Carson made me realize how convenient everything has been. My sister’s death, the letter, meeting you, surviving the first feeding..." She shook her head, frustration bleeding into her voice. "Either I’m the luckiest woman alive, or I’m the most manipulated."
Grayson’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. But when he spoke, his voice was controlled, almost gentle.
"There’s a third option you haven’t considered," he said, taking another careful step toward her. "That your strength, your resilience, your ability to survive what should have killed you—that it all comes from you. Not from manipulation, not from luck, but from who you are."
His words cut through the poisonous doubt Carson had planted, offering her something to hold onto. But even as relief flooded through her, questions remained, nagging at the edges of her consciousness.
"Carson seems to know exactly which buttons to push," she said quietly, studying Grayson’s face. "The things he said about manipulation, about my circumstances being too convenient..."
"Carson feeds on chaos," Grayson replied, his voice carrying a note of bitter understanding. "Disorder, risk, adrenaline—they’re all sustenance to him. He would gain nothing from helping you see the truth, but everything from making you doubt what you feel."
The explanation made sense, but Mailah could still feel the seeds of uncertainty taking root despite her efforts to ignore them. "So the things he suggested about my sister’s death, about the letter—"
"May be complete fabrications designed to create exactly this kind of doubt," Grayson interrupted gently. "Carson is skilled at taking grains of truth and spinning them into elaborate deceptions. It’s how he creates the kind of emotional turmoil he needs to feed."
Mailah felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as his words offered a rational explanation for Carson’s psychological assault.
But even if the doubts were manufactured, the fear remained—not just of manipulation, but of what tonight would bring.
"I’m scared," she admitted quietly, the confession escaping before she could stop it. "About tonight. About what might happen during the feeding."
Grayson’s expression softened, and she watched him carefully choose his words. "Tell me what frightens you most."
"Everything," she said with a shaky laugh. "The loss of control, the possibility that you might..." She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t voice the fear that he might drain her dry in his hunger.
"There’s something else," Grayson said, and his voice carried a note that made her skin prickle with unease. "Something Carson doesn’t know. Something no one knows except Kieran."
Mailah waited, hardly daring to breathe.
"If the feeding goes wrong tonight," Grayson said, his eyes never leaving hers, "if I lose control and start to drain you beyond what you can survive, I’ve arranged for my own death."
It was as if his words had cracked something inside her, leaving her gasping, reeling. "What?"
"Kieran has explicit instructions," Grayson continued, his voice matter-of-fact despite the enormity of what he was revealing. "A dagger through the heart, blessed by angel fire. It would kill me instantly, severing the feeding connection before I could drain you completely."
Horror crashed over her in waves. "You’re talking about suicide."
"I’m talking about insurance," Grayson corrected, but there was something in his eyes that suggested the distinction mattered less than she might think. "You asked about my backup plan. That’s it. Your safety guaranteed, even at the cost of my existence."
Mailah stared at him, her mind struggling to process what he’d just told her. He had been planning to die tonight. Not as a last resort, not as an unlikely possibility, but as a calculated contingency.
"No," she said, the word escaping as barely more than a breath.
"Mailah—"
"No," she said again, stronger this time.
She closed the distance between them in two quick steps, her hands fisting in the front of his shirt with enough force that she could feel his supernatural warmth through the fabric. "You don’t get to make that choice for me. You don’t get to decide that your life is worth less than mine."
Grayson’s hands came up to cover hers, his touch gentle despite the strength she could feel thrumming beneath his skin. "I’ve told you. If it comes down to your survival or mine—"
"Then we find another way," Mailah interrupted fiercely. "Promise me, Grayson. Promise me that tonight, no one dies. Not you, not me. We both survive this together, or we don’t do it at all."
For a long moment, he said nothing, and she could see the war playing out across his features—centuries of careful planning battling against her fierce demand.
"I need you to promise me," she pressed, her voice carrying a desperate edge. "Whatever happens tonight, no martyrdom, no noble sacrifices. Both of us make it through, or neither of us does."
"Mailah," he said softly, and there was something almost broken in the way he said her name.
"Promise me," she repeated, her hands tightening in his shirt.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded. "I promise," he said quietly. "No one dies tonight. Not you, not me. We survive this together."
The relief that flooded through her at his words was almost overwhelming, and she found herself sagging against him slightly, the tension finally beginning to leave her shoulders.
"We should go to the den," Grayson said gently, his voice carrying new warmth now that they had reached their agreement. "If we’re going to do this tonight, we need to practice one more time. Make sure you’re as prepared as possible."
Mailah nodded, though the thought of another practice session made her stomach flutter with nervous energy.
Each time they had practiced, the connection between them had grown stronger, more intense, and she wondered if tonight’s session would push them both beyond their carefully maintained boundaries.
"Will it help?" she asked as they made their way out of the damaged morning room, stepping carefully around broken glass and scattered debris. "The practice, I mean. Will it make tonight safer?"
"Your resilience will be the deciding factor," Grayson replied, his hand finding the small of her back as they walked down the corridor. "Every time we’ve practiced, you’ve shown remarkable strength, remarkable ability to maintain yourself even under pressure. That resilience will help you survive what’s coming."
The confidence in his voice was reassuring, but Mailah could still detect an undercurrent of worry. "And you? Will you be able to maintain control?"
Grayson was quiet for a moment as they approached the den, his hand warm and steady against her back.
"I promise you," he said finally, his voice carrying absolute conviction, "I will not forget who you are. No matter how deep the hunger goes, no matter how overwhelming the need becomes—I will remember that you are precious to me. I will remember that your survival matters more than my feeding."
They reached the den, and Grayson paused with his hand on the door handle, turning to look at her with an expression that was both tender and fierce. "I will control myself, Mailah. I will not let the demon in me override what I feel for the woman I..." He stopped, the words seeming to catch in his throat.
Grayson’s unfinished words hung in the air, weighted with an intensity that made Mailah’s heart pound.
But before she could respond, the door creaked open from the inside, and a smooth, amused voice cut through the heavy silence.
"Well, isn’t this sweet? Our ever-disciplined Grayson, tripping over his tongue like a lovesick mortal."
Kieran leaned casually against the doorway, his hair falling just past his jawline and his smile wicked enough to unsettle her. His golden eyes glimmered with mischief as he looked between the two.
"Kieran," Grayson said sharply, his jaw tightening.
Kieran chuckled, ignoring the warning in Grayson’s tone. "Relax, Ashford. I’m only here for the last day of training. After all, someone has to prepare her for tonight’s feeding. Unless..."
His smirk deepened as he tilted his head at Grayson. "...you’ve decided to go soft. And judging from that tender little speech, I’d say you’re halfway there."
Grayson turned his gaze on Kieran, slow and lethal, as though weighing the moment to strike. Mailah froze, her breath catching.