Chapter 78: Chapter 78: The Old Flame
MAILAH’S BREATH CAUGHT.
Wife.
The word sliced through her, sharp and cold, even though she told herself it shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t his anything. And yet... she couldn’t ignore the burn low in her chest.
Kassandra’s smile was languid, too knowing, as if she already sensed the storm she was about to ignite.
Mailah whispered, her voice unsteady despite her best efforts, "And what does she want with you now?"
Grayson didn’t look at her.
His eyes stayed fixed on the woman drawing closer, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "With me?" he said, voice dark and taut. "I haven’t the faintest idea."
The doorbell chimed through the estate with crystalline precision, each note seeming to hang in the air longer than it should.
Grayson moved toward the front entrance, his supernatural energy crackling beneath his skin like barely contained lightning.
Mailah followed at a careful distance, her heart hammering against her ribs as they reached the massive oak doors.
Through the sidelights, she could see Kassandra’s silhouette—tall, elegant, radiating the kind of confidence that spoke of centuries of getting exactly what she wanted.
Grayson pulled the door open with controlled force, his expression a mask of cold indifference that would have fooled anyone who hadn’t seen the vulnerable man he’d been just moments before.
"Kassandra," he said, his voice carrying undertones that made the very air seem to vibrate with tension. "What are you doing here?"
The woman on his doorstep was even more breathtaking up close.
Her platinum hair fell in perfect waves over shoulders bare except for the thin straps of an emerald silk dress that matched her eyes exactly.
Her skin carried a luminous sheen that hinted at something otherworldly, though Mailah couldn’t place what kind.
"Hello, darling," Kassandra purred, her voice carrying an accent that seemed to shift between languages with each syllable. "Don’t I get a kiss after all these years?"
She moved as if to step inside, but Grayson blocked her path with his body, his stance making it clear she wasn’t welcome.
"I told you the last time we spoke that it would be the final time you set foot on my estate," he said, each word precise and sharp as a blade. "That hasn’t changed."
Kassandra’s laugh was like silver bells wrapped in velvet—beautiful and somehow threatening at the same time. "Oh, my sweet Grayson. That was before you started embracing your demon side again."
Her emerald eyes found Mailah over Grayson’s shoulder, and the smile that spread across her perfect features was pure predator recognizing prey.
"And who is this lovely creature?" she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew exactly who Mailah was. "The little human who finally broke through all that tiresome self-restraint of yours?"
Mailah felt heat rise in her cheeks, but she lifted her chin with determination that surprised even herself. "I’m Mailah."
"Of course you are," Kassandra said, her voice dripping with condescension disguised as sweetness. "And I’m sure you think you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into, don’t you, darling?"
"Kassandra." Grayson’s voice carried a warning that would have sent lesser beings fleeing, but his former wife seemed utterly unperturbed.
"What? I’m simply making conversation." She tilted her head, studying Mailah with the intensity of a scientist examining a particularly interesting specimen. "Though I must admit, I’m curious about how long you think this little arrangement is going to last."
"What do you want?" Grayson asked, cutting through whatever game Kassandra was playing.
Her smile turned genuinely pleased, as though he’d asked exactly the right question. "Isn’t it obvious? I’ve come to congratulate you on finally accepting what you are. And to offer my services."
The temperature in the foyer seemed to drop several degrees, though the morning sun continued to stream through the windows.
Mailah found herself moving closer to Grayson despite his earlier warnings about physical contact, drawn by some instinct that told her danger was standing on their doorstep wearing designer silk.
"Your services," Grayson repeated, his voice flat and dangerous.
"Oh, come now," Kassandra said, finally pushing past him into the foyer with fluid grace. "Surely you’ve realized the problem with your current situation? This sweet little human can barely survive one feeding session, and you’re going to need so much more now that your true nature is awakened."
She moved through the space like she owned it, her emerald eyes taking in every detail with obvious familiarity.
When her gaze landed on Mailah again, there was something calculating in her expression that made Mailah’s skin crawl.
"I, on the other hand," Kassandra continued, turning back to Grayson with a smile that was all sharp edges, "am perfectly equipped to handle everything you can give. No risk of accidentally draining me dry, no need for careful monitoring, no tiresome protocols or boundaries."
Each word landed heavy, slamming into Mailah as if they had weight. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Kassandra was right.
A supernatural being would be able to handle Grayson’s feeding needs without the constant danger that seemed to follow Mailah everywhere.
"Get out," Grayson said quietly, but his voice carried enough supernatural power to make the crystal chandelier above them chime softly.
Kassandra’s laugh was genuinely delighted. "There’s that demon fire I remember so well. Do you know how long I’ve waited to see it again?"
She moved closer to him with predatory intent, her movements fluid and hypnotic. "We were magnificent together, darling. Before you let all that human guilt convince you to send me away. But now that you’re finally embracing what you are..."
"I said get out," Grayson repeated, supernatural energy beginning to crackle visibly around his hands.
But Kassandra seemed to feed off his anger, her own otherworldly nature becoming more apparent with each passing moment.
Her skin began to glow with inner light, and her eyes took on depths that spoke of ancient power.
"You can’t keep pretending to be something you’re not," she said, her voice carrying harmonics that resonated in Mailah’s bones. "Especially not with a fragile little human who can barely handle what you need to survive."
She gestured toward Mailah with elegant dismissal. "She’s going to hold you back, limit you, force you to deny your true nature just when you’re finally free to embrace it. Is that really what you want? Another century of starvation and self-denial?"
Mailah found her voice despite the fear clawing at her throat. "He’s not starving. He’s choosing to be more than just his hunger."
Kassandra’s attention snapped to her with laser focus, and Mailah immediately regretted speaking.
There was something in those emerald eyes that was far older and more dangerous than any human gaze had a right to be.
"Oh, you sweet, naive little thing," Kassandra said, her voice carrying pity that felt like acid. "You actually think this is about choice, don’t you? That love and good intentions can overcome centuries of supernatural instinct?"
She moved closer to Mailah, ignoring Grayson’s warning growl. "Let me tell you something about incubi, darling. The more they try to deny what they are, the more dangerous they become. And now that his demon nature is fully awakened, the hunger will only grow stronger."
"Kassandra, enough," Grayson said, moving between them with protective instinct.
But Kassandra wasn’t finished. "She’ll never be enough for you," she said, her words aimed at Grayson but her eyes fixed on Mailah. "A human can’t satisfy an awakened incubus. She’ll drain herself trying, or you’ll kill her taking what you need. Either way, this little fantasy ends in tragedy."
"Unless," she continued, turning back to Grayson with triumphant satisfaction, "you accept my offer. I can give you everything you need without risk, without guilt, without the constant fear of destroying something precious."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Mailah could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, could feel the weight of Kassandra’s words settling over them like a suffocating blanket.
Because despite everything she wanted to believe about their connection, about Grayson’s ability to maintain his humanity, there was an undeniable logic to what Kassandra was saying.
A supernatural partner would eliminate the dangers that had nearly killed Mailah just the night before.
"No," Grayson said finally, his voice carrying absolute conviction despite the chaos Kassandra had stirred up. "Whatever game you’re playing, whatever my brothers promised you for coming here again, the answer is no."
Kassandra’s smile turned sharp enough to cut glass. "Your brothers? Oh, darling, this has nothing to do with them. This is purely personal."
She moved toward the door with the same fluid grace she’d entered with, but paused at the threshold to deliver one final blow.
"When you realize that trying to cling to your humanity is going to destroy everything you claim to care about," she said, her voice carrying the weight of prophecy, "you know where to find me."
The massive oak door closed behind her with finality that seemed to echo through the entire estate.
But her presence lingered like smoke, polluting the air with implications and half-truths that would be impossible to ignore.
Grayson stood frozen in the foyer.
When he finally turned to look at Mailah, she could see the war being waged in his transformed eyes—human affection battling demonic hunger, hope struggling against the terrible logic of Kassandra’s words.
"She’s wrong," Mailah said quietly, though her voice lacked the conviction she wanted to project.
"Is she though?" Grayson asked, and the uncertainty in his voice broke something inside her chest.
Before she could answer, he moved toward the windows that overlooked the circular drive.
Kassandra’s Mercedes was already pulling away, but something in Grayson’s posture suggested the confrontation was far from over.
"Grayson," Mailah said carefully, "what is she?"
He was quiet for so long she wondered if he’d heard the question.
When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"A succubus," he said, the words falling like stones into still water.
"She’s a succubus."