Chapter 157: Chapter 157: The Pre-Wedding

THE DRIVE back to the villa should have been peaceful—golden afternoon light streaming through the cypress trees, the Tuscan countryside rolling past like a painting come to life. But Mailah couldn’t shake the weight of Liora’s words.

When that restraint finally collapses—and it will—the bond won’t crush you. It will devour you both.

She glanced at Grayson. His jaw was tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel with barely restrained tension. He’d been silent since they left the café, lost in thoughts she could only guess at.

“You’re thinking too hard,” she said softly.

“I’m thinking the appropriate amount given what you just agreed to.”

“Grayson—”

“She’s right, you know.” His voice was strained. “About what I’ll become. When the restraint breaks. I’ve spent centuries building walls, and you’re—” He stopped, jaw clenching. “You’re taking them all down. Brick by brick.”

“Is that so terrible?”

“It’s terrifying.”

She reached over, her hand finding his on the gear shift. He tensed at the contact, then slowly turned his hand palm-up, threading their fingers together.

“I can feel it already,” he admitted quietly. “The tethering. It’s like—like there’s a thread connecting us. I know where you are. How you’re feeling. It’s subtle now, but after the ritual—”

“It’ll be stronger.”

“Overwhelming.” His thumb traced patterns on her palm. “Mailah, I need you to understand what you’re walking into. Once we bond, I won’t be able to hide from you. You’ll feel my hunger. My need. Every dark thought, every violent instinct I’ve spent centuries suppressing.”

“And you’ll feel mine,” she said. “My fear. My doubts. My—” She paused, heat creeping up her neck. “My desire.”

His eyes flashed silver before returning to the road. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because your desires won’t accidentally drain my life force.”

“But they might make you lose control in other ways.”

The car swerved slightly as his hands tightened on the wheel. “Mailah—”

“I’m just saying, it goes both ways. You’re terrified of hurting me. But I could hurt you too. Maybe not physically, but—” She searched for words. “Emotionally. If I ever doubted you, or pushed you away, or—”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” His voice was absolute. “Because unlike me, you’re not a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” Mailah said firmly. “You’re cautious. There’s a difference.”

“Is there? Because from where I’m sitting, I’ve spent three hundred years running from my own nature. You’ve been in my life for months and you’re already braver than I’ve ever been.”

“That’s not—”

“You agreed to bond with me in public, Mailah. Knowing it would make you a target. Knowing it might get you killed. If that’s not bravery, I don’t know what is.”

She squeezed his hand. “Or stupidity. The jury’s still out.”

Despite everything, his lips twitched. “Probably stupidity.”

“Definitely stupidity.”

They pulled through the villa gates, and Mailah felt relief. Safe. Protected. At least for now.

Shadow was waiting on the front steps, tail swishing with clear impatience.

As soon as they stepped inside, the villa erupted into mild chaos. Lucien was trying—unsuccessfully—to scoop up what looked like a dozen of Shadow’s shredded napkins from the dining table.

Elin was kneeling on the floor, chasing after a trail of glittering powder that Shadow had somehow knocked off the shelves, and Oliver was muttering into his phone, clearly trying to explain why one of the villa’s decorative vases had gone missing.

“Shadow,” Mailah said warily, eyes narrowing.

The cat looked up, eyes wide and innocent, as if the shredded papers, glitter, and missing vase were completely unrelated to her actions.

“She’s… attacking everything,” Lucien said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The dining table, the flower arrangements, possibly the space-time continuum itself.”

Elin gave Shadow a pointed look. “Stop moving. Stop glittering. Just… stay.”

Shadow yawned, flicked her tail, and batted the vase toward the corner of the room with absolute precision.

Mailah groaned, burying her face in her hands. “We’re about to deal with a hostile wedding, and Shadow is staging a one-cat apocalypse.”

Grayson crouched beside her, eyes flicking over the chaos. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, thumb brushing along her wrist. “We can handle both,” he murmured. “Hostile wedding, magical mischief, and—” He gestured at Shadow, who had now climbed the curtains—”—apocalyptic cats.”

Mailah laughed despite herself. “You make it sound heroic.”

“Someone has to be,” he replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “And that someone is me. Protecting you, and apparently, wrangling Shadow.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” he said, voice low and warm. “Even when we’re surrounded by glitter, shredded paper, and potentially deadly cats.”

Shadow meowed from her perch atop the curtains, clearly in agreement—or issuing a challenge.

Mailah sighed, smiling through the absurdity.

Grayson pressed a kiss to her temple, eyes gleaming with affection and something else—a flicker of playful danger. “Absolutely perfect.”

Mailah sank into a chair. “Any other good news?”

“Actually, yes,” Elin said, finally looking up. “Dr. Morrison sent word. He’s coming to the wedding. Just in case.”

“Just in case of what?”

“Just in case the ritual goes wrong,” Grayson said quietly. “Or someone tries to interfere with it. Or you have an adverse reaction to the bonding.”

“Adverse reaction,” Mailah repeated. “You mean like… what? Supernatural allergies?”

“More like your body rejecting demon essence,” Oliver explained. “It’s rare, but it happens. Usually when the human isn’t psychologically prepared for the bond.”

“Are you psychologically prepared?” Lucien asked, genuinely curious.

Mailah thought about it. “I have no idea. Is anyone prepared to have their soul tethered to a centuries-old incubus?”

“Fair point.”

Shadow jumped onto the table, scattering several of Lucien’s carefully organized papers. He yelped in protest, but the cat simply sat on the guest list like she was claiming it.

“She’s making a statement,” Elin observed.

“She’s being a menace,” Lucien corrected, trying to extract papers from under her. Shadow batted at his hands with sheathed claws.

Despite the stress, Mailah found herself smiling. This. This ridiculous, chaotic, impossible situation. She wouldn’t trade it for anything.

She caught Grayson watching her, something soft in his expression.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re smiling.”

“Is that weird?”

Grayson crossed to her, crouching down so they were eye level. “How are you so calm about this?”

“I’m not calm. I’m terrified. But also—” She reached up, cupping his face. “I have you. And them. And honestly, after everything we’ve been through, a hostile wedding feels almost manageable.”

“That’s concerning.”

“My life is concerning.”

He kissed her forehead—a brief, tender gesture that made her chest ache.

Behind them, Lucien made a strangled sound. “Oh my god, are they having a moment again? They’re having a moment. EVERYONE LOOK AWAY.”

“I’m not looking away,” Elin said, camera already up. “This is documentation.”

Oliver sighed the sigh of someone who’d given up on controlling anything happening in this villa. “Can we please focus on the security issue?”

Grayson stood, but kept one hand on Mailah’s shoulder.

“During the vows,” Elin added. “Make it explicit that this is her choice. That she’s entering the bond freely and with full knowledge.”

Grayson looked at Mailah. “Are you comfortable with that?”

“Making a public declaration that I’m choosing you of my own free will? Absolutely.”

Something fierce and possessive flashed in his eyes. “Then we’ll do it.”

Shadow chose that moment to yowl—loud and imperious—and everyone turned to look.

The cat was staring at the window, her fur standing on end, ears flat against her head.

The room went silent.

“What is it?” Mailah whispered.

Grayson moved immediately to the window, his power crackling around him like static. He looked out, scanning the grounds.

“I don’t see anything,” he said, but his voice was tight.

“Shadow doesn’t react to nothing,” Oliver said, already moving to reinforce the wards.

Lucien’s wings snapped open—a defensive instinct. “Should we—”

“Stay calm,” Grayson ordered. “It might be nothing.”

But the bracelet on Mailah’s wrist suddenly flared warm—not painful, but insistent. A warning.

“Grayson,” she said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. “The bracelet.”

He was at her side in an instant, his hand covering hers, examining the glowing runes. “Someone tried to scry you.”

“Scry?”

“Magical surveillance,” Lucien explained. “Someone was trying to locate you or spy on you remotely.”

“Did they succeed?” Mailah asked.

“No,” Grayson said, and there was dark satisfaction in his voice. “The bracelet blocked it and alerted us. But—”

“But now they know we’re watching,” Lucien finished.

“And they know you’re protected,” Grayson added. “Which means they’ll try something else.”

Mailah looked at the bracelet on her wrist, at the runes still faintly glowing, then at Grayson. “Who could it be?”

The room was quiet for a beat too long.

She started laughing—a slightly hysterical sound that had Shadow looking at her with feline concern. “We’re going to have a hostile wedding, magical surveillance, and potentially guests who might harm or kill me.”

“That’s… accurate,” Oliver said carefully.

“And I still want to do this.” She looked at Grayson, finding him already watching her with that intense, unwavering focus. “I still want to marry you. Bond with you. Face all of this with you.”

“Even knowing it might be a disaster?” he asked quietly.

“Especially knowing it might be a disaster.” She stood, crossing to him, taking his face in both her hands.

He pulled her against him, holding her like she might disappear.

Behind them, Lucien sighed dramatically. “They’re doing it again. The intense couple thing.”

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