Chapter 217: Chapter 217: The Predator 2

“THE SPELL has done nothing to cure you.” The voice was like the sound of grinding stones wrapped in velvet. “Old or new, both appear equally smitten with the same woman. It’s almost a pity.”

Grayson snapped back, his hand dropping from Mailah’s neck as he turned toward the balcony. Standing there, silhouetted against the morning smog, was Ravenson.

He was the fourth brother, and unlike the others, his presence didn’t feel like a sharp blade or a frantic hum. He felt like a heavy, suffocating blanket of cold rain.

Ravenson was the one who fed on conflict and despair, and right now, his eyes were fixed on Mailah with a curiosity that made her skin crawl.

“Ravenson,” Grayson said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, protective register. “I don’t recall inviting you to stare at my guests from the terrace.”

Ravenson stepped into the library, his boots silent on the polished floor. He has the same raven black hair, the same broad shoulders—but while Grayson was a storm, Ravenson was the ruins left behind.

Before Grayson’s exile, they had been close, bonded by a shared distaste for their other brothers’ more flamboyant cruelties. But this Grayson, the one who looked at humans as toys, was a stranger to him.

“Our brothers said you were back to your old self,” Ravenson remarked, his gaze flicking to Mailah. “The one who didn’t let ’feelings’ get in the way of efficiency. And yet, I walk in and find you practically inhaling a mortal. It’s a confusing signal, brother.”

Mailah stood her ground, though her heart was trying to kick its way out of her ribs. She remembered what Grayson had told her about Ravenson—how he thrived on family feuds and broken homes.

Ravenson’s lips quirked into a joyless smile. He turned back to Grayson. “You’re agreeing to the Gala? Are you finally hungry for the chaos?”

“I am going because it is my right,” Grayson snapped. He moved with a speed that made Mailah blink, stepping between her and Ravenson. “And she is going because I say so.”

Ravenson let out a low, humming sound. As a demon of conflict, he could feel the friction in the room like a physical heat. He looked at the way Grayson’s hand was clenched into a fist, the knuckles white.

“You’re defensive,” Ravenson noted, his voice smooth. “That’s interesting. The Grayson I remember—the one you claim to be now—wouldn’t care if I looked at her. He wouldn’t care if I took her. He certainly wouldn’t be ’smitten.’”

“I am not smitten,” Grayson hissed.

“Then let her walk over to me,” Ravenson challenged. “Let’s see if the demon can handle a little conflict in his own house.”

The air in the library grew thick enough to choke on. Mailah felt the tug of Ravenson’s power—a subtle, nagging urge to say something hurtful, to start an argument, to break the fragile bond she was trying to rebuild with Grayson. It was how he fed. He was stirring the pot, looking for a taste of their frustration.

“Stop it,” Mailah said, stepping out from behind Grayson. She looked Ravenson dead in the eye. “You want a fight? Go find a war zone. We have enough problems without you trying to snack on our stress.”

Carson’s voice suddenly drifted in from the hallway. “Ooh, is Ravenson here? Did he start a fight yet? I hope he brought snacks, I’m starving!”

The youngest brother tumbled into the room, followed by Lucson and Mason. Suddenly, the conference room was crowded with all five Ashford brothers—a collection of power that felt like a ticking time bomb.

“The gang’s all here,” Mason drawled, leaning against a bookshelf. “Mailah, you look like you’re about to faint. Raven, stop trying to eat the girl’s anxiety. It’s bad manners.”

“I’m not eating her anxiety,” Ravenson said, though he didn’t look away from her. “I’m testing the new Grayson’s resolve. He claims to be the man he was before the exile, but he’s still acting like a lovesick pup.”

Grayson’s eyes flared a brilliant, terrifying silver. The temperature in the room plummeted. “One more word about ’pups,’ Ravenson, and I will show you exactly which version of me has returned.”

“Gentlemen, please,” Lucson interrupted, his voice the only thing keeping the room from exploding. “We have a Gala to prepare for. The tradition dictates that we enter as a unit. If we are busy tearing each other apart, we will be vulnerable to the others.”

The brothers began to argue about the logistics of the event, their voices a blur of supernatural politics and ancient rivalries.

Mailah found herself pushed to the edge of the circle, watching them. They were magnificent and terrifying, a family of monsters who shared a bond of blood but a hunger that kept them at each other’s throats.

The atmosphere in the sleek, glass-walled conference room of Ashford Global was reaching a dangerous boiling point. Outside the soundproof windows, the bustling heart of the city pulsed with life, unaware that five of the most powerful entities in existence were currently crowding around a minimalist conference table.

Mailah watched them, her worry growing. Through the glass walls of the conference room, she could see the shadows of employees scurrying past, their heads down, sensing the unnatural tension radiating from the room.

To the world, these were just “family associates,” but the way the air was warping around them told a different story. If this continued, the “commotion” would turn into a full-scale panic.

“Enough!” Mailah’s voice rang out, sharp and clear, startling the five demons into a sudden, jarring silence.

They all turned to her. Five pairs of supernatural eyes—silver, dark, and predatory—fixed on a single human woman.

“If you are planning to argue over logistics and ’feeding grounds’ like children, you can do it somewhere else,” she said, pointing a finger toward the door. “This is a place of business. There are people outside who are just trying to do their jobs without feeling like the world is ending. If you want to fight over the gala, you need to leave. Now.”

For a heartbeat, the silence was absolute. Then, a look of profound amusement flickered across Mason’s face. Carson let out a muffled snort of laughter, and even Ravenson’s grim expression softened into something resembling respect. They looked like a pack of wolves that had just been told to sit by a kitten.

“She’s certainly got more fire than I thought,” Mason whispered, his eyes dancing.

Lucson cleared his throat, adjusting his silk tie as if he were actually a chastised executive. “The lady makes a valid point. We are causing a… disturbance. We should reconvene at Grayson’s estate tonight to finalize the arrangements.”

Like a row of obedient, yet incredibly dangerous, puppies, the brothers began to file out of the conference room. Carson gave Mailah a playful wink as he passed, and Ravenson lingered for one last, calculating look before vanishing into the hallway.

When the heavy doors finally clicked shut, only Grayson and Mailah remained. The silence that followed was deafening.

Mailah sank into one of the plush chairs, the adrenaline fading into a dull ache. She realized with a sinking heart that with Grayson in his “pre-exile” state, his brothers weren’t just visitors—they were a permanent fixture. She was going to be seeing a lot more of the Ashford nightmare than she was comfortable with.

“You have a habit of commanding things you shouldn’t be able to control,” Grayson said, his voice echoing in the empty room.

“Someone had to stop them,” Mailah replied, looking up at him. “They were going to scare your staff half to death.”

Grayson walked around the table, his movements silent and predatory. He stopped in front of her. “Ravenson was right about one thing. I don’t remember you. I don’t remember the ’humanity’ you supposedly taught me.”

He pulled her up from the chair, drawing her close until her heart was drumming against his chest.

“But every time you speak, my blood reacts. Every time you defy me, my demon wants to claim you. I am an incubus. I do not get ’smitten.’ I take what is mine. And right now… every instinct I have is telling me that you belong to me. Even if I can’t remember why.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her lips. This time, there was no Ravenson to interrupt.

The kiss was a collision of hunger and desperation. It wasn’t the sweet, tentative love of Tuscany; it was the raw, territorial passion of a man—and a beast—who had forgotten how to be gentle.

Grayson held her, his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her flush against the cold silk of his shirt.

“You are a very dangerous human,” he rasped against her skin, his voice hitched.

“And you are a very hungry demon,” she whispered back.

He let out a low, guttural groan. For a moment, the conference room and the corporate world vanished, leaving only the two of them.

“I don’t know who to trust,” Mailah admitted, her voice trembling. “Your brothers, your new self… even my own heart.”

Grayson pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. The silver was swirling with a deep, dark blue—a hint of the man who had loved her, buried beneath the ice of the demon.

“Don’t trust them,” he warned. “And don’t trust the man I was. Trust the man who is standing here right now. Because he is the only one who is real.”

As he led her out of the conference room and past the staring eyes of his employees, Mailah couldn’t help but wonder: in a world where her protector was also a predator, was she truly safe?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep