Chapter 162: Chapter 162: The Visitor

AS THEY WALKED BACK to the car, Grayson caught her hand.

“I love you too,” she whispered back.

The drive back to the villa should have been peaceful—Mailah still floating on the warmth of the afternoon, Grayson’s hand steady in hers, the Tuscan countryside bathed in twilight.

Should have been.

But as they approached the gates, Mailah felt something shift. A coldness in the air that had nothing to do with temperature. The wards flickered—visible for just a moment, struggling against something.

“Grayson,” she said, her voice tight.

“I feel it.” His jaw was set, power already crackling around him. In the back seat, Lucien and Oliver had gone completely still, alert.

They pulled through the gates to find a figure standing in the villa’s courtyard.

Tall. Impeccably dressed in a dark suit. Silver hair swept back from a face that was beautiful in the way poisonous things were beautiful—sharp, cold, perfectly crafted to lure you in before destroying you.

Lord Varrow.

He stood with casual arrogance, examining the villa like he was considering purchasing it.

When their car pulled up, he turned with a smile that made Mailah’s skin crawl.

“Ah,” he said, his voice smooth as silk and just as suffocating. “The happy couple returns.”

Grayson was out of the car before it fully stopped, moving with that inhuman speed that reminded Mailah exactly what he was. Lucien flanked him immediately, Oliver following with his human speed, forming a protective wall.

Mailah got out more slowly, her hand instinctively going to the bracelet on her wrist. It was burning—not painfully, but insistently. A warning.

“Where is Elin?” Oliver demanded, his voice sharp.

“The photographer?” Varrow’s smile widened. “Inside, I believe. We had such an interesting conversation.”

Mailah’s blood turned to ice. She moved toward the villa door, but Grayson caught her arm.

“Stay behind me,” he said quietly. Then, to Varrow: “You’re not welcome here.”

“No? But I received such a lovely wedding invitation. I thought I’d come early to… extend my congratulations.”

“You weren’t invited,” Lucien said, and there was steel in his voice Mailah had never heard before. “Leave. Now.”

“So hostile. And here I only came to wish the bride well.” Varrow’s gaze slid to Mailah, and she felt it like ice water down her spine.

“Congratulations, my dear. Binding yourself to an incubus who’s barely learned to control his hunger. How… brave. Or perhaps foolish. The line is so thin.”

“Leave,” Grayson said, and his voice dropped into something inhuman—multiple tones layered over each other, resonating with power that made the air vibrate. “You have three seconds.”

“Or what? You’ll attack me? On your own property? Breaking half a dozen supernatural treaties?” Varrow laughed. “We both know you won’t. Not with your little human watching. You wouldn’t want her to see what you really are when you lose control.”

Mailah stepped forward before Grayson could respond. “I know exactly what he is. And I’m not afraid. But you?” She met Varrow’s eyes despite the fear screaming in her veins. “You should be terrified. Because if you’ve hurt Elin, if you’ve touched anyone in this house, there’s no treaty in the world that will protect you from us.”

For a moment, something flickered in Varrow’s expression—surprise, maybe, or reassessment.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “How delightful.” He straightened his cuffs with deliberate casualness. “I haven’t hurt anyone. Yet. I simply came to… observe. To see what could drive an ancient incubus to break rules.”

“You’ve seen,” Grayson said, his power building until the air shimmered. “Now leave.”

“I will. But first—a word of advice, Mr. Ashford.” Varrow’s smile turned cruel. “That bond you’re so eager to form? It works both ways. When you inevitably lose control and drain her dry, you’ll feel every moment of her death. Every scream, every terror, every desperate attempt to escape you. And you’ll know—” He paused, letting the words sink in. “You’ll know it was your fault.”

Grayson moved—faster than sight, power exploding around him in waves of silver and shadow. He didn’t touch Varrow, but the force of his rage slammed into the man like a physical blow, shoving him back several feet.

“Get. Out.” Each word dripped with barely restrained violence. “Before I forget every treaty, every law, every reason not to end you right here.”

Varrow straightened his suit, completely unruffled despite being thrown by pure force. “There’s the demon I’ve heard so much about. Good to know he’s still in there.” He glanced at Mailah. “Remember this moment, little human. Remember how easily he loses control. Because on your wedding day, when all eyes are watching, when he feeds from you in front of everyone—what happens when he can’t stop?”

“He will stop,” Mailah said, her voice steadier than she felt. “Because unlike you, he’s not a monster. He’s just someone who’s been alone too long. And that ends now.”

Something dark flashed in Varrow’s eyes. “We’ll see. Three days, I believe? I’ll be there. Front row. Watching.” He began walking toward the gates, then paused. “Oh, and do check on Elin. She seemed quite… distressed by our conversation. Old wounds, you understand. They never really heal.”

He was gone in a blink—literally, disappearing between one moment and the next like he’d never been there at all.

Mailah didn’t wait. She ran for the villa, Grayson and the others right behind her.

Inside, the house felt wrong—cold, violated, like Varrow’s presence had stained everything. Shadow sat at the bottom of the stairs, her fur standing on end, hissing at nothing.

“Elin!” Mailah called, taking the stairs two at a time.

She found her in her bedroom, curled in the corner farthest from the door, knees pulled to her chest, eyes wide and unseeing. She was shaking—full-body tremors that made her look fragile in a way Mailah had never seen.

“Elin,” Mailah said softly, approaching slowly like she might with a frightened animal. “It’s me. He’s gone. You’re safe.”

Elin’s eyes focused on her, but there was no recognition in them. Just raw, primal terror.

“He’s coming,” Elin whispered. “He knows. He knows everything. He’s been watching, planning, and now he knows—” She broke off into sobs that sounded like they were being torn from her chest.

Mailah dropped to her knees beside her, not touching, just being present. “What did he say to you?”

“Everything I was afraid of. Everything I ran from. He—” Elin’s breath hitched. “He described exactly how he’s going to destroy this. All of it. The wedding, the bond, you and Grayson—he has a plan and I can’t—I can’t—”

“Breathe,” Mailah said firmly. “Just breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

Behind her, she heard Grayson enter, followed by Lucien and Oliver. The air shifted as Grayson’s power receded, carefully contained so as not to overwhelm Elin further.

“She needs Dr. Morrison,” Lucien said quietly. “This is beyond—this is trauma response. He triggered something.”

“I’ll call him,” Lucien said, already pulling out his phone.

Grayson knelt beside Mailah, his expression carved from stone. “Elin. Look at me.”

It took a moment, but Elin’s eyes finally focused on him.

“Whatever he told you,” Grayson said, his voice gentle despite the rage Mailah could feel vibrating through him, “it was designed to break you. To make you doubt. To make you afraid. That’s what he does. He finds your fear, your pain, and weaponizes it.”

“But he knows,” Elin whispered. “He knows about—” She stopped, her eyes going to Mailah. “He knows things about you. Things no one should know.”

Mailah’s blood ran cold. “What things?”

“He knows—” Elin’s voice broke. “He’s going to expose you at the wedding. In front of everyone. Make it look like you deceived Grayson, like the bond is built on lies.”

The room went silent.

“Let him try,” Grayson said, his voice hard. “I’ve known since the beginning. There’s nothing to expose.”

“But the Council—” Elin started.

“The Council can go to hell,” Grayson interrupted. “I don’t care what Varrow knows or thinks he can use against us. He’s not going to destroy this. I won’t let him.”

Mailah reached out slowly, telegraphing the movement, and took Elin’s hand. It was ice-cold and trembling. “What else did he say?”

Elin’s eyes were haunted. “He said—he said he’s been collecting information for months. That the wedding is just the beginning. That once everyone knows the truth about Mailah, once they see the bond is—” She stopped, swallowing hard. “He said it’ll be easy to claim coercion. To say Grayson manipulated a grieving twin into taking her sister’s place.”

“That’s insane,” Lucien said. “Anyone who’s seen them together for five minutes knows—”

“It doesn’t matter what’s true,” Elin said, and there was defeat in her voice that made Mailah’s chest ache. “It matters what people believe. And Varrow is very, very good at making people believe what he wants them to.”

The room fell into tense silence, broken only by Elin’s shaky breathing and Shadow’s continued hissing from somewhere downstairs.

Finally, Mailah spoke. “Then we control the narrative.”

Everyone turned to look at her.

“We tell the truth first,” she continued, the plan forming as she spoke. “During the vows. In front of everyone. I tell them exactly who I am—Mailah, not Lailah. That I took my sister’s place because she asked me to. That Grayson has known from the beginning. That we chose each other with full knowledge and consent.”

“That’s—” Oliver started.

“Risky,” Lucien finished. “Very risky.”

“But effective,” Grayson said slowly, and Mailah could see him working through the implications. “If we expose the truth ourselves, Varrow loses his leverage. He can’t weaponize information we’ve already shared.”

“And it proves the bond is genuine,” Mailah added. “If we’re willing to stand in front of hundreds of supernatural beings and admit everything, there’s no room for claims of deception.”

“The Council will still have questions,” Oliver warned.

“We’ll answer,” Grayson said. “Honestly. Because we have nothing to hide.”

Elin was staring at Mailah like she’d grown a second head. “You’re willing to do that? Expose yourself to—to everyone? The judgment, the scrutiny, the—”

“For him?” Mailah looked at Grayson, finding him already watching her with an intensity that stole her breath. “For us? Yes. I’m willing to face anything.”

Something in Elin’s expression cracked. “You’re either the bravest person I’ve ever met or the most foolish.”

“Can’t I be both?”

Despite everything, Elin huffed a laugh—small, broken, but real. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

Dr. Morrison arrived twenty minutes later. He assessed Elin with quick efficiency, then produced a small vial of something that glowed faintly blue.

“For the shock,” he explained, helping Elin drink it. “It’ll ease the trauma response. Not erase it—trauma needs to be processed properly—but it’ll help you breathe.”

Within minutes, color returned to Elin’s face. The trembling slowed. She took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at Dr. Morrison with gratitude.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We’ll need to talk. Later. About what he said, what he triggered. But for now—” He stood, turning to Grayson. “You have a bigger problem than Lord Varrow’s psychological warfare.”

“What problem?”

“He was inside your wards. Actually inside them. That should be impossible with the protections you have in place.” Dr. Morrison’s expression was grave. “Either he’s significantly more powerful than we thought, or—”

“Or someone let him in,” Oliver finished, his face pale.

The implications hung heavy in the air.

Someone in their circle—or close to it—had betrayed them.

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