CHAPTER 153: CHAPTER 153: THE TASTING

THREE DAYS after the mirror incident, Mailah found herself being hustled into Grayson’s car with a sense of surreal whiplash.

"Remind me again why we’re doing this?" she asked as Grayson navigated through Tuscan countryside roads that wound like ribbon through olive groves.

"Because," he said with the kind of patience that suggested he’d explained this before, "we still have a wedding to plan. And despite supernatural threats, soul-binding contracts, and murderous cats, the world expects us to show up with cake."

"The world has terrible priorities."

"Agreed. But Liora has been texting me increasingly aggressive reminders that we have tastings scheduled."

Mailah snorted. "Aggressive how?"

He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. The latest message read: Mr. Grayson Ashford, if you miss another appointment, I will personally have your espresso machine enchanted to only brew decaf. Do not test me.

"She’s terrifying," Mailah said admiringly.

"She’s efficient. There’s a difference."

"Is there though?"

They pulled up to a charming villa-turned-event space, all honey-colored stone and climbing wisteria.

Liora stood at the entrance like a general awaiting her troops—dark hair in its signature elaborate braid, wearing a flowing emerald skirt paired with a blazer that somehow made her look both professional and like she might break into a musical number at any moment.

Her jewelry caught the afternoon sun, emitting that faint glow Mailah had noticed before. Definitely magical.

"Finally!" Liora called out, striding toward them with purposeful energy. "I was beginning to think you’d been kidnapped by vengeful spirits."

"Just regular spirits," Mailah said.

Liora paused. "Was that a joke or—"

"We’re not sure yet," Grayson said smoothly, taking Mailah’s hand as they approached. "Shall we?"

Liora’s eyes dropped to their intertwined fingers, and something warm flickered across her face. "Well. That’s different from last time."

"Things have... evolved," Mailah said.

"I can see that." Liora’s smile turned knowing. "Good. Makes my job easier when the couple actually likes each other."

She led them inside, where a long table had been set up with what could only be described as an obscene amount of wine bottles, cake samples, and covered dishes.

"Right," Liora said, pulling out a leather-bound planner that looked like it had seen three wars. "We have a lot to get through, so let’s be efficient. Wine first."

What followed was an increasingly hilarious parade of wine tasting that proved several things: Grayson had excellent taste, Mailah had no idea what she was doing, and Liora had the patience of a saint.

"This one has notes of cherry and oak," the sommelier explained, pouring a deep red.

Mailah swirled it like she’d seen people do in movies. "It tastes like... wine?"

Grayson tried and failed to hide his smile.

"Very good wine," she amended quickly.

"It’s a Brunello," Liora said. "One of the finest in the region."

"Then yes. Definitely that one."

They moved through whites, rosés, a prosecco that made Mailah giggle after half a glass, and something Liora called "the fancy stuff" that probably cost more than Mailah’s childhood home.

"This is for the human guests, correct?" Grayson asked.

"Of course," Liora said. "We’ll discuss the other arrangements separately."

Mailah’s ears perked up. "Other arrangements?"

"Nothing to worry about," Liora said breezily, which immediately made Mailah worry.

Grayson’s hand found hers under the table, squeezing gently. Reassuring. She squeezed back, trying not to think about what "other arrangements" might mean for supernatural wedding guests.

The cake tasting was equally chaotic.

"This is vanilla with raspberry filling," the baker announced, presenting a slice that looked like it belonged in a magazine.

Mailah took a bite and nearly moaned. "This is obscene."

"Good obscene or bad obscene?" the baker asked nervously.

"Marry me obscene."

"You’re already marrying him," Liora pointed out.

"Then I’m marrying this cake too. We’ll make it work."

Grayson was watching her with barely concealed amusement, his eyes soft in a way that made her stomach flip.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. You just—" He stopped, shaking his head. "You’re enjoying this."

"Why wouldn’t I? It’s cake."

"Most people treat wedding planning like a chore."

"Most people are idiots."

His smile was small but genuine, and Mailah felt something warm settle in her chest. This. This moment of normalcy in the middle of supernatural chaos. It felt precious.

They tried six more cakes—chocolate with salted caramel, lemon with lavender, something involving pistachio that Grayson claimed was traditional, and a tiramisu that made Mailah want to weep with joy.

"We’ll take all of them," Mailah declared.

"That’s not how wedding cakes work," Liora said.

"It should be."

Eventually they settled on the vanilla raspberry for the main cake, with smaller tasting cakes of the other flavors scattered throughout the reception.

"Compromise," Mailah said sagely. "The foundation of any good marriage."

Grayson’s lip twitched.

Food tasting was an elaborate affair involving antipasti, three types of pasta, multiple proteins, and sides that Mailah couldn’t pronounce but could definitely eat.

"The humans will love this," Liora said, making notes. "Traditional but elevated. Exactly what you want for a destination wedding."

There was that word again. Humans.

Mailah set down her fork. "So about the non-human guests—"

"All taken care of," Liora said smoothly. "Grayson gave me very specific instructions."

Mailah turned to look at him. "Did he now?"

Grayson’s expression was carefully neutral. "Standard arrangements for mixed gatherings."

"Standard," Mailah repeated. "Right. And what exactly do supernatural beings eat at weddings?"

"Depends on the being," Liora said cheerfully. "Some have dietary restrictions. Some have dietary... preferences."

The way she said preferences made Mailah’s skin prickle.

"Preferences like...?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with," Grayson said, his hand finding her knee under the table. "I promise it’s all ethical and regulated."

"That’s not as comforting as you think it is."

Liora laughed—a bright, musical sound. "You’re going to fit in beautifully. Most humans would be having a panic attack right now."

"I’m having a very internal panic attack, thank you."

"Even better." Liora stood, gathering her materials. "Right. I think we’re done here. Unless you have questions?"

Mailah had approximately one million questions, but she started with the most pressing: "Is there a separate tasting for the supernatural food?"

The room went very quiet.

Grayson and Liora exchanged a look—quick, loaded with unspoken communication.

"That won’t be necessary," Grayson said carefully.

"Why not?"

"Because the requirements are quite specific," Liora said. "And frankly, you wouldn’t enjoy the tasting process."

"Why not?" Mailah repeated, more insistent now.

Another loaded look between them.

"Mailah," Grayson said gently, "some things are better left—"

"Don’t," she interrupted. "Don’t do the protective thing where you keep me in the dark for my own good. We’re past that."

His jaw tightened, but she saw the moment he relented. "You’re right. I’m sorry."

Liora set down her planner, studying Mailah with new intensity. "You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Even if it’s... unsettling?"

"Especially then."

Liora’s smile turned approving. "You’re braver than most. Alright."

She settled back into her chair, crossing her legs elegantly.

"The supernatural menu requires ingredients that can’t be sampled by humans. Some are energetic rather than physical. Some are... let’s say acquired from sources that would raise ethical questions in traditional catering."

"Ethical questions how?"

"Well," Liora said thoughtfully, "let’s take incubi and succubi, for example. They feed on life energy, but it can be consensually harvested and stored. Think of it like... emotional batteries. Very expensive emotional batteries."

Mailah blinked. "You’re serving emotional batteries at our wedding."

"Among other things."

"What other things?"

Grayson sighed. "For my kind, there will be... options."

"Options," Mailah said faintly.

"Ethically sourced," he emphasized. "From willing donors who are compensated and protected. Nothing harmful. Nothing without consent."

"But you won’t be—" Mailah stopped, realizing what she was about to ask. "You won’t be feeding at our wedding, will you?"

His eyes found hers, serious and steady. "That depends entirely on you."

The air between them thickened.

"On me how?"

"On whether you’d allow it," he said quietly.

Mailah’s pulse was hammering. "You want to feed from me at our wedding?"

"I want to be with you at our wedding," he corrected. "In whatever way you’re comfortable with. If that includes feeding, then yes. If not, I have other arrangements."

"The emotional batteries," Mailah said.

"The emotional batteries," he confirmed.

Liora was watching them with rapt attention, like they were her favorite television show.

"Can you give us a moment?" Mailah asked her.

"Absolutely. Take your time. I’ll be outside reorganizing my life." She swept out of the room with practiced grace, somehow managing to close the door silently despite wearing jewelry that clinked with every movement.

The moment they were alone, Mailah turned to Grayson. "Explain. Everything. No more half-truths."

He took a breath.

"The ritual feeding. It’s symbolic. A demonstration of trust and bond. The incubus feeds lightly from their partner, and in return—" He stopped.

"In return what?"

"In return, they give something back. Part of their power. Part of their immortality. It’s temporary—a few hours at most—but it’s... significant. It marks you as bonded. Protected."

Mailah’s brain was spinning. "So you’re saying if we do this ritual, I’d temporarily have demon powers?"

"Very temporarily. And very minimal. But yes."

"And everyone would see this?"

"It’s traditional to perform it during the reception. After the vows, before the dancing." His hand found hers. "But Mailah, I want to be clear—this is entirely your choice. If you’re not comfortable, we don’t do it. Simple as that."

She stared at their joined hands, processing. "Would it hurt?"

"No. If anything, it would feel... intense. But not painful."

"And you’d take some of my life force."

"A sip," he said. "Nothing more. And I’d give you something infinitely more valuable in return."

"Which is?"

His eyes darkened, turning that molten silver-blue she was coming to recognize. "The certainty that we’re bound. Not by contract or obligation. By choice."

Her breath caught.

"You’re asking me to literally give you part of my life at our wedding."

"I’m asking you to trust me," he corrected. "The rest is just... formality."

They sat like that for a long moment, the weight of the decision hanging between them.

Finally, Mailah squeezed his hand. "I need to think about it."

"Of course."

"But Grayson?"

"Yes?"

"The fact that you asked—that you gave me the choice—that means everything."

Something in his expression cracked open, vulnerable and raw. "You mean everything."

Before she could respond, Liora knocked gently on the door. "Not to rush you, but we do have a timeline to maintain."

"Come in," Mailah called.

Liora entered, her expression carefully neutral. "Decision made?"

"Not yet," Mailah said. "But I have another question."

"Shoot."

"The supernatural menu—you’re handling it under specific instructions. What instructions exactly?"

Liora’s smile turned mysterious. "That, my dear, is between me and Grayson. Wedding coordinator confidentiality."