Chapter 163: Chapter 163: The Aftershock 1

MAILAH FELT GRAYSON’S HAND find hers, his grip tight enough to hurt. She didn’t pull away.

“Find out who,” Grayson said quietly, each word clipped and dangerous. “Lucien, check every layer of the wards. Document where they failed.”

“Way ahead of you. I’ll reach out to every contact I have. Someone’s heard something.” Lucien’s usual levity had evaporated entirely, leaving behind something harder, older.

Dr. Morrison gathered his supplies with practiced efficiency. “I’ll return tomorrow to check on Elin. In the meantime—” He fixed Grayson with a serious look. “Watch everyone. Trust no one who isn’t in this room right now.”

“What about Marco?” Mailah asked suddenly. “He’s a Watcher. He has access to—”

“Marco likely reported Varrow’s presence to the Council immediately,” Dr. Morrison interrupted. “I received word en route. Whatever his faults, he’s loyal to protocol. This came from somewhere else.”

The phoenix healer left, taking with him some of the oppressive energy that had settled over the villa. But not enough. Not nearly enough.

Elin had stopped shaking but remained curled in the corner, Dr. Morrison’s potion working to dull the sharp edges of her panic.

Mailah stayed with her, unwilling to leave her alone.

“I’m sorry,” Elin whispered after a long silence. “I should have been stronger. Should have—”

“No.” Mailah squeezed her hand. “Varrow is centuries old and feeds on breaking people. You survived. That’s what matters.”

“Barely.”

“Still counts.”

A ghost of a smile touched Elin’s lips. “You’re annoyingly optimistic, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.”

They sat like that until Elin’s breathing evened out, until some color returned to her face. Eventually, Lucien appeared in the doorway with tea—real tea, not supernatural anything, just chamomile in mismatched mugs.

“Stress beverage,” he announced, handing them each a cup. “Oliver’s downstairs muttering about something. Grayson’s on the phone with someone who sounds terrifying. And Shadow—” He paused. “Shadow is sitting at the front yard like she’s guarding it. It’s both adorable and deeply unsettling.”

Despite everything, Mailah laughed. “That sounds like Shadow.”

Elin took a sip of tea, her hands still trembling slightly. “What did Varrow tell you? Outside?”

“Nothing we didn’t already know,” Mailah said. “He’s planning to disrupt the wedding. Use my identity as ammunition. Standard villain monologuing.”

“He’s more than that.” Elin’s voice dropped. “He’s been planning this for days, I’m sure. Maybe longer. He knew exactly what to say to me—things I’ve never told anyone. Things about my past, about why I ran from him in the first place.”

Lucien sat on the edge of the bed, his expression unusually serious. “What did he know?”

“Everything.” Elin’s grip tightened on the mug. “Every fear, every regret, every moment I’ve tried to forget. He laid it all out like a menu, picking which ones would hurt most.” She looked at Mailah. “He’ll do the same to you at the wedding. Find your weakest point and press until you break.”

“Then I won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking,” Mailah said simply.

“You say that now—”

“Elin.” Mailah met her gaze. “I’ve spent my entire life being underestimated. Being told I’m not enough, not strong enough, not brave enough. Varrow can try his worst. I’m still going to stand up there and bond with Grayson in front of everyone.”

Lucien studied her with newfound respect. “You’re actually serious.”

“Completely.”

“You’re either incredibly brave or—”

“Stupid?” Mailah supplied. “Yeah, Elin said the same thing.”

“I was going to say ’refreshingly unhinged,’ but stupid works too.”

Despite the tension, Elin laughed—a real laugh this time, surprised out of her. “God, you two are ridiculous.”

Mailah stood, offering Elin her hand. “Come on. Sitting up here alone isn’t helping anyone. Let’s go see what Oliver’s discovered.”

Downstairs, Oliver had transformed the dining room into a command center, papers and diagrams spread across every surface.

Shadow sat in the middle of it all like a furry paperweight, occasionally batting at anything that looked important.

“Stop that,” Oliver said without heat. “Those are critical ward schematics.”

Shadow meowed, unimpressed, and deliberately knocked a pen off the table.

Grayson appeared from his study, phone still in hand, looking grimmer than Mailah had ever seen him. “We have a problem.”

“Another one?” Lucien asked. “Collect them all?”

“The Council is sending an official delegation. Tomorrow. To ’assess the situation’ before the wedding.”

Everyone went still.

“Define ’assess,’” Elin said carefully.

“Interview everyone present. Verify the wards were breached. Determine if the wedding should proceed as planned or be postponed pending investigation.” Grayson’s jaw was tight. “They’re treating this as a potential security risk.”

“To be fair,” Oliver said, “someone did let a hostile entity through sophisticated wards. That is a security risk.”

“Helpful,” Lucien muttered.

“I’m just saying.”

Mailah felt panic rising but pushed it down. “What does this mean for the wedding?”

“It means we have less than twenty-four hours to convince the Council that we’re not a threat to supernatural stability.” Grayson crossed to her, his hands framing her face gently despite the fury in his eyes. “I’m sorry. This is—”

“Not your fault,” she interrupted. “None of this is your fault. Varrow is playing games, and we’re not letting him win.”

“The Council might not give us a choice.”

“Then we convince them.” She covered his hands with hers. “We show them exactly what we are—two people who chose each other despite every reason not to. If that’s a threat to stability, then maybe their stability is the problem.”

Grayson stared at her like she’d hung the moon.

Lucien cleared his throat. “As touching as this is, we still need to prepare for tomorrow. The Council will want answers we might not have.”

“Then we give them what we do have,” Grayson said, not looking away from Mailah.

“That’s not much of a defense,” Lucien pointed out.

“It’s the only defense we have.”

The night stretched long as they prepared.

Mailah sat with Grayson in his study, holding his hand while he made call after call—to allies, to neutral parties, to anyone who might speak favorably about them to the Council.

“This is my fault,” he said after hanging up from yet another conversation. “If I’d just maintained my isolation, if I hadn’t—”

“Don’t,” Mailah interrupted. “Don’t you dare regret this. Regret me.”

“I don’t regret you. I could never—” He stopped, pulling her into his lap with desperate urgency. “But watching you get dragged into this political nightmare, seeing Elin broken by Varrow, knowing I can’t protect everyone—”

“You’re not supposed to protect everyone alone.” She cupped his face, making him look at her.

They sat like that for a long moment, just breathing together, stealing peace in the chaos.

“Grayson?” Mailah said softly.

“Mm?”

“Whatever the Council decides tomorrow, whatever Varrow does at the wedding—I’m not leaving. You’re stuck with me.”

His arms tightened around her. “You sure about that?”

“Promise. Even if they say the wedding can’t happen. Even if we have to wait. Even if—”

He kissed her, cutting off the spiral of worries. It was gentle at first, then deeper, tinged with desperation and promise and everything they couldn’t say out loud.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his eyes were silver fire again.

“I love you,” he said, and the words felt like a vow. “Whatever happens, remember that. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in three centuries of existence.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back. “Obsessively. Stupidly. Completely.”

“The best kind of love.”

“The only kind worth having.”

They stayed like that until Lucien knocked on the study door, announcing that it was past midnight and they all needed sleep before the Council arrived.

“Tomorrow’s going to be brutal,” he warned. “The Council doesn’t mess around with security breaches.”

“We’ll manage,” Grayson said.

“Will we?”

“We have to.”

Mailah walked to her room with Shadow at her heels, the cat’s presence oddly comforting. She changed into sleep clothes and climbed into bed, exhausted but too wired to actually sleep.

She was still staring at the ceiling when she felt it—that familiar shift in the air that meant she wasn’t alone.

“You don’t have to keep appearing in my room like that,” she said without opening her eyes.

Grayson’s shadow-form materialized by the window. “I know. But I can’t stay away either.”

“The Council’s going to think we’re reckless.”

“We are reckless.”

“Fair point.” She patted the space beside her. “Come here. If you’re going to break rules, at least be comfortable while doing it.”

He solidified enough to sit on the edge of her bed, close but not quite touching. “I shouldn’t—”

“Grayson, after tomorrow, we might not get another quiet moment before the wedding. Or—” She swallowed. “Or there might not be a wedding. So please. Just… stay with me again.”

He studied her for a long moment, conflict clear in his expression as what usually happened. Then, slowly, he lay down beside her on top of the covers, maintaining that careful distance that was becoming harder and harder to maintain.

“Just until you fall asleep,” he said.

“Deal.”

She turned on her side, facing him, and reached out to thread their fingers together. His hand was warm despite his shadow form, solid where it mattered.

“Tell me something,” she said softly. “Something good. Something that has nothing to do with Councils or Varrow or weddings.”

He thought for a moment. “The first time I saw you—actually saw you, not just looked at you—.”

“What?,” she asked, eyes widening with genuine interest.

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