Chapter 62: Chapter 62: The Unexpected Guest 1

“EXCELLENT,” Kieran said, rising from his chair with fluid grace. “I knew you’d see reason eventually. Self-preservation is such a beautifully honest instinct.”

Mailah watched the interplay between the two, noting how different they were despite sharing the same supernatural nature.

Where Grayson carried himself with careful restraint, every movement measured and controlled, Kieran moved with the casual confidence of a predator who had never doubted his place at the top of the food chain.

“So how does this work?” Grayson asked, his voice tight with barely controlled tension. “This feeding technique you’re so eager to share.”

Kieran’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed just a shade too sharp in the firelight. “Ah, straight to business. I do admire efficiency.” He settled back into his chair, completely at ease despite the waves of hostility radiating from Grayson.

“The problem,” Kieran began, his tone taking on the quality of a professor delivering a lecture, “is that you’ve been feeding like a starving man at a feast. All surface-level consumption, gorging yourself on the immediate sexual energy without any finesse or technique.”

He gestured dismissively, as if Grayson’s feeding method was personally offensive to him. “It’s crude, wasteful, and ultimately fatal to your partners. Rather like trying to drink from a fire hose when a wine glass would suffice.”

Mailah felt heat creep up her neck as the conversation turned to the intimate details of supernatural feeding.

The clinical way Kieran discussed something so deeply personal made her skin crawl, but she found herself unable to look away from his golden eyes.

“The art,” Kieran continued, leaning forward with genuine enthusiasm, “lies in layered feeding. Instead of draining surface fantasies and conscious desires—which will kill your partner within moments—you learn to access the deeper levels of their subconscious.”

“Deeper levels?” Grayson’s voice carried a note of reluctant interest despite his obvious distaste for the conversation.

“The human mind is like an iceberg,” Kieran explained, his hands moving expressively as he spoke. “What they experience consciously during an erotic dream is merely the tip. Beneath that surface lies layers upon layers of repressed desires, forgotten fantasies, primitive urges they’ve never even acknowledged.”

The firelight cast shifting shadows across his features. “Feed from those depths, and you can sustain yourself for weeks on a single session without causing permanent damage. The dreamer wakes tired, perhaps a bit confused, but very much alive.”

Mailah found herself both fascinated and horrified by the casual way he discussed manipulating human minds. “And the victims? What happens to them in the long term?”

Kieran’s gaze shifted to her with something that might have been amusement. “Victims is such an ugly word, don’t you think? I prefer to consider them… contributors to a greater cause.”

“Answer her question,” Grayson growled, his protective instincts flaring to life.

“Eventually, they develop a dependency,” Kieran admitted with a shrug. “The deep feeding creates a kind of psychic addiction. They find themselves unable to experience normal sexual satisfaction, constantly seeking the intensity they can only find in supernatural dreams. They become willing participants rather than unwilling victims.”

“That’s horrifying,” Mailah breathed, imagining people trapped in an endless cycle of supernatural dependency.

“Is it?” Kieran asked with genuine curiosity. “They experience pleasure beyond anything their mortal partners could provide. They live in a constant state of heightened arousal and satisfaction. Many would argue it’s a gift rather than a curse.”

The casual cruelty of his words made Mailah’s stomach churn, but she could see the twisted logic beneath his reasoning. In his worldview, providing transcendent pleasure justified the ultimate cost.

“The technique itself is quite elegant,” Kieran continued, apparently unbothered by their obvious discomfort. “You create multiple dream layers—surface fantasies that feel real to the conscious mind, while you feed from the subconscious depths they’re not even aware of experiencing.”

He stood and moved to the fireplace. “Think of it as psychological archaeology. You dig deeper and deeper into their psyche, feeding on desires they’ve buried so far down they’ve forgotten they exist.”

“And you’ve perfected this technique?” Grayson asked, though Mailah could hear the reluctance in his voice.

“Over centuries of practice,” Kieran confirmed with obvious pride. “Though I should clarify—I didn’t develop these techniques out of compassion or moral consideration. Dead clients are bad for business, and satisfied customers return with referrals.”

His golden eyes glinted with cold calculation. “I could drain the same human in a single session if I chose to, consume every last drop of their essence until there’s nothing left but a beautiful corpse. I’ve done it before, when the situation called for it. But sustainable feeding practices generate sustainable profits.”

The implications of what he was describing made Mailah feel sick. “You’re talking about psychological rape,” she said quietly. “Violating the most private parts of people’s minds without their consent.”

Kieran turned to face her, his golden eyes reflecting the firelight like molten metal. “Such moral absolutes,” he said with what sounded like genuine pity. “You think in terms of right and wrong, consent and violation. But survival transcends morality, my dear. When faced with extinction, ethics become a luxury few can afford.”

“Mailah’s right,” Grayson said firmly. “What you’re describing is monstrous.”

“Is it?” Kieran laughed, the sound rich and genuinely amused. “More monstrous than allowing yourself to waste away from starvation? More monstrous than leaving your beautiful lover vulnerable to dissolution backlash when you finally die?”

He moved closer to where they stood, his presence filling the room with predatory energy. “Let me be frank, Ashford—if you didn’t care so much about preserving human dignity, feeding would be absurdly simple. You could take what you need without all this moral hand-wringing.”

His gaze shifted to Mailah with unmistakable hunger. “Though I must admit, I understand the impulse to preserve something so… exquisite.”

The way he looked at her made Mailah’s skin crawl, as if he were mentally cataloging every curve and hollow of her body for future reference.

“If I were in your position,” Kieran continued thoughtfully, “I would certainly preserve her. But perhaps not for the same noble reasons you cling to.”

“Watch it.” Grayson’s voice had dropped to a dangerous growl.

Kieran’s smile turned predatory. “I would feed from her slowly, carefully, savoring every layer of her consciousness like a fine wine. I would make her crave the dreams I provided, make her beg for the pleasure only I could give her. And when I had explored every hidden desire, every secret fantasy, every buried need…”

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