CHAPTER 154: CHAPTER 154: THE WEDDING PREP

"THAT, MY DEAR, is between me and Grayson. Wedding coordinator confidentiality."

Liora’s smile turned mysterious.

"That’s not a real thing," Mailah said.

"It is when you’re coordinating supernatural weddings."

"Liora," Grayson warned.

"What? She asked!"

Mailah looked between them, something clicking into place. "Wait. The instructions—they’re not just about what to serve. They’re about who to watch for. Who might be dangerous."

The room went silent.

Liora’s playful expression faded into something more serious. "You’re clever. I like that."

"Liora," Grayson said again, more firmly this time.

"She deserves to know," Liora said. "She’s walking into this world. She should understand what that means."

"What does it mean?" Mailah asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Liora met her gaze directly. "It means that every supernatural being at your wedding will be watching you. Judging you. Deciding if you’re worthy of being bonded to one of their own. And some of them—" She paused. "Some of them won’t want you to be."

The words landed like stones in still water.

"So the menu isn’t just about feeding guests," Mailah said slowly. "It’s about keeping them satisfied enough that they don’t cause problems."

"Exactly."

Grayson’s hand tightened on hers. "Which is why I gave very specific instructions. About quantities. About quality. About ensuring that everyone leaves satisfied."

"Or at least not hungry enough to make trouble," Mailah finished.

"Precisely."

The weight of it settled over her—their wedding wasn’t just a celebration. It was a political event. A supernatural gathering where anything could go wrong.

"Well," Mailah said finally. "That’s not terrifying at all."

"You can still back out," Grayson said quietly. "No one would blame you."

She looked at him—really looked at him. At the tension in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes, the way he was holding her hand.

"Are you kidding?" she said. "I’m not missing this. Though I am demanding to know what these specific instructions are."

Grayson and Liora exchanged another look.

"Some things are better discussed in private," Liora said carefully. "Away from—" She glanced at the walls, the windows. "Listening ears."

"You think someone’s spying on us?" Mailah asked.

"I think," Liora said, "that when you’re planning a wedding that will host some of the most powerful supernatural beings, you assume everything is being monitored."

A chill ran down Mailah’s spine. "Even here?"

"Especially here. Event venues are neutral ground. Which means they’re also prime locations for surveillance."

Grayson stood abruptly. "We’re leaving. Liora, send me the final details. We’ll approve them remotely."

"Already done." Liora was gathering her things with practiced efficiency. "But Grayson—we need to discuss security. Properly. Not here."

"The villa?" he suggested.

"Too obvious. They know where you’re staying." Liora tapped her planner thoughtfully. "There’s a café in Siena. Human-owned, warded by a neutral party. We can talk there."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. Noon. Don’t be late." She swept toward the door, then paused. "Oh, and Mailah?"

"Yes?"

"Whatever Grayson told you about the wedding menu? There’s more he didn’t mention. Make him tell you everything before tomorrow. You’ll need to know."

With that cryptic warning, she was gone, leaving Mailah and Grayson alone in the suddenly oppressive tasting room.

"More you didn’t mention," Mailah repeated slowly. "Want to elaborate on that?"

Grayson ran a hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically rattled. "Not here. Let’s go."

The drive back to the villa was tense and silent. Mailah watched the countryside blur past, her mind racing with implications.

Surveillance. Judgment.

Supernatural beings who might not want her to succeed.

And something about the menu that Grayson hadn’t told her.

When they finally pulled through the villa gates, Mailah didn’t wait for him to open her door. She was out and heading inside before he’d even turned off the engine.

Shadow met her at the entrance, tail swishing with clear disapproval.

"Not now," Mailah told the cat.

Shadow hissed—a sound that seemed to say, This is exactly the time.

"Is the cat scolding you?" Lucien called from the kitchen, where he appeared to be making some kind of elaborate sandwich.

"The cat is always scolding someone," Elin said, looking up from her laptop at the table. "It’s her love language."

"Where’s Oliver?" Mailah asked.

"Reinforcing the wards. Again. He’s become obsessed." Lucien took a massive bite of his sandwich. "So how was wedding planning? Did you pick a cake? Please tell me you picked the chocolate one."

"We picked vanilla raspberry."

"Disappointing, but acceptable." He noticed her expression. "Why do you look like someone just told you your wedding is actually a trap?"

"Because it might be," Mailah said.

Everyone froze.

Grayson entered behind her, his presence filling the doorway. "We need to talk. All of us. Where’s Oliver?"

"I’ll get him," Elin said, already moving.

Five minutes later, they were all gathered in the living room—Oliver looking suspicious, Lucien looking concerned, Elin looking calculating, and Shadow looking like she’d predicted this exact scenario.

"Right," Grayson said, standing with his back to the fireplace like he was about to deliver bad news. "The wedding. It’s—complicated."

"More complicated than feeding supernatural guests?" Lucien asked.

"Yes."

"How is that possible?"

Grayson’s jaw tightened. "Because the guest list isn’t just a guest list. It’s a statement. Every supernatural being who attends is making a political choice. Supporting us means taking a stance."

"A stance on what?" Oliver asked.

"On whether a demon who’s abstained for centuries has the right to bond with a human. On whether that bond is legitimate or an abomination."

"Who thinks it’s an abomination?" Mailah asked, her voice dangerously calm.

"The traditionalists," Lucien said quietly. "The old families who believe supernatural and human bonds weaken both species."

"And they’re invited to our wedding because...?"

"Because not inviting them would be seen as an insult," Grayson said. "Which would give them cause to act against us openly. At least this way, they’re bound by wedding protocols. They can judge, but they can’t attack."

"Unless they decide the protocols don’t apply," Lucien added helpfully.

"Not helping," Oliver muttered.

Mailah sank onto the couch, her mind spinning. "So we’re inviting people who might want to kill me to our wedding, and keeping them happy with fancy supernatural food."

"That’s—yes, essentially," Grayson admitted.

"And the specific instructions you gave Liora?"

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Instructions on what to do if someone tries to poison the food. Or enchant it. Or use it to perform a ritual that would bind you to something other than me."

The room went very, very still.

"I’m sorry," Mailah said slowly. "Did you just say someone might try to bind me to something else at my own wedding?"

"It’s a possibility we’re preparing for."

"What kind of possibility?"

Grayson looked like he’d rather face down a dozen demons than answer this question. "There are—entities. Powerful ones. Who might see bonding with you as a way to control me. Or weaken me. Or study what makes our connection work."

"Like Varrow," Elin said.

"Possibly. Or others like him."

Mailah pressed her hands to her face. "This is insane. We’re literally planning for someone to try and magically kidnap me at our wedding."

"Which is why we’re taking precautions," Grayson said. "Liora knows. She’s one of the best in the business at supernatural event security. The menu, the seating arrangements, even the flowers—everything is designed to protect you."

"The flowers?" Mailah asked weakly.

"Certain blooms repel specific types of magic," Oliver explained. "Wolfsbane for lycanthropes, iron-laced roses for fae, salt-blessed lilies for spirits."

"We’re essentially turning your wedding bouquet into a weapon," Lucien said. "It’s actually kind of romantic."

"It’s kind of terrifying," Mailah corrected.

Shadow jumped onto the couch beside her, curling into her lap with a weight that felt reassuring despite everything. Mailah stroked her fur absently, trying to process.

"So tomorrow," she said finally. "When we meet Liora. What else is she going to tell me?"

"The backup plans," Grayson said. "What happens if someone does try something. Who’s positioned where. Which guests are allies, which are neutral, which are potential threats."

"You’ve basically turned our wedding into a military operation."

"I’m turning it into the safest place I can make it for you."

The raw honesty in his voice made her throat tight. She looked up at him—this man who’d spent centuries alone, who’d built walls so high nothing could reach him, who was now dismantling everything to protect her.

"Come here," she said quietly.

He moved immediately, kneeling in front of the couch so they were eye level. Shadow, displaced by his presence, gave an irritated meow and relocated to the armrest.

Mailah cupped his face in her hands. "You should have told me all this before."

"I know."

"But you were trying to protect me from worrying."

"Yes."

"That’s sweet. And stupid. We’re past the ’protective secrets’ stage, remember?"

His lips twitched. "I’m learning that."

"Good." She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. "So from now on, we’re a team. You tell me everything. Even the scary things. Especially the scary things."

"Even if it makes you reconsider marrying me?"

"Grayson." She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. "I’m marrying you in a venue full of supernatural beings who might want to kill me, with a weaponized bouquet and food designed to keep potential enemies satisfied. If that doesn’t scare me off, nothing will."

Something in his expression cracked open—relief and disbelief and desperate love all tangled together. "You’re insane."

"I’m in love with a centuries-old demon. Insanity is kind of implied."

"Fair point."

She kissed him—soft and brief and full of promise. When she pulled back, his eyes had gone that molten blue-gray that made her stomach flip.

"I do have one condition though," she said.

"Anything."

"The ritual feeding. The bonding one where I temporarily get demon powers?"

His breath caught. "Yes?"

"I want to do it."

He went completely still.