CHAPTER 41: CHAPTER 41: THE GOLDEN-EYED STRANGER 2

The shattered champagne glass lay scattered across the poolside tiles like crystalline tears, each fragment catching the dream-light and throwing it back in sharp, accusatory glints.

Mailah stared at Kieran’s outstretched hand, her heart hammering against her ribs as the truth of her situation crashed over her in waves.

She wasn’t on her honeymoon. This wasn’t real. And the man she’d thought was her husband—the man she’d fallen for—was slowly draining the life from her body.

"I can see the realization dawning," Kieran said softly, his golden eyes warm with what looked like genuine compassion. "I know it’s frightening, discovering that everything you believed was a lie. But I’m here now. I won’t let him finish what he started."

The emptiness inside her was growing stronger now that she was aware of it, like a black hole in her chest that pulled at her very essence.

How long had this been happening? How much of herself had already been consumed?

"How do I know you’re telling the truth?" she whispered, though even as she asked the question, she found herself leaning toward him.

There was something magnetic about Kieran, something that made her want to trust him despite her better judgment.

"Because I’m the only one who came for you," he replied, his voice carrying a conviction that felt like bedrock solid. "Think about it, Mailah. Where are the people who supposedly care about you? I’m the only one here trying to save you from becoming another victim."

The words struck home with devastating accuracy. She couldn’t remember anyone else. There was only the endless perfection of this place and Grayson’s hypnotic attention.

"You’re right." The words came out as barely a whisper. "I can’t remember anyone else. I can’t remember anything before this place."

"Because he’s stolen those memories from you," Kieran said, his hand still extended, patient and steady. "But I can help you get them back. I can take you somewhere safe, away from his influence, where you can remember who you really are."

The promise of remembering, of reclaiming herself, was irresistible.

Mailah reached out and took his hand, gasping at the shock of contact. His skin was fever-warm, electric with an energy that made her nerve endings sing.

"That’s it," he murmured, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Trust me, Mailah. Let me save you."

He led her away from the pool, away from the resort’s gleaming facade, toward what appeared to be a secluded garden pavilion nestled among flowering trees that bloomed in impossible colors.

The structure was elegant in its simplicity—white marble columns supporting a domed roof, gossamer curtains that fluttered in a breeze that smelled of jasmine and promises.

"We’ll be safe here," Kieran said, guiding her up the steps and into the pavilion’s cool interior. "His power can’t detect us in this place."

The moment they crossed the threshold, Mailah felt something shift. The strange fog that had clouded her thoughts seemed to lift slightly, and she could think more clearly than she had since... since when? When had this all begun?

"I can see you’re already feeling better," Kieran observed, his golden eyes studying her face with an intensity that made her skin prickle. "Away from his immediate influence, your natural vitality is beginning to reassert itself."

He was right. She did feel more like herself, more aware of her own thoughts and feelings. But along with that clarity came a growing unease about her situation.

The pavilion, while beautiful, felt isolated. Cut off. And Kieran’s attention had taken on a quality that made her think of a predator watching its prey.

"How do you know so much about what’s happening to me?" she asked, taking a step back as he moved closer. "Who are you, really?"

His smile was slow and knowing, transforming his handsome features into something that made her pulse quicken with alarm rather than attraction.

"I’m someone who appreciates quality when I see it," he said, his voice dropping to a register that seemed to vibrate through her bones. "And you, my dear Mailah, are the finest essence I’ve encountered in decades."

The word ’essence’ sent ice through her veins. She’d heard that term before, in fragments of memory that were starting to coalesce into something terrifying.

"You’re like him," she breathed, backing toward the pavilion’s entrance. "You’re not here to save me at all."

"Oh, but I am," Kieran said, following her retreat with the fluid grace of a hunting cat. "I’m saving you from a slow, gentle death and offering you a quick, pleasurable one instead. Much more merciful, don’t you think?"

His appearance began to shift as he spoke, his perfect human features becoming something else entirely. His golden eyes developed an inner glow that had nothing to do with reflected light, and his handsome face took on angular, predatory lines that spoke of centuries spent feeding on human life force.

"You see, your current owner has grown soft," Kieran continued, his transformation accelerating with each word. "He’s developed feelings for you, which means he’s feeding slowly, carefully, trying to make you last. But that just means you’ll suffer longer. I, on the other hand, have no such sentimental attachments."

Horror crashed over her as the pieces finally clicked into place. Incubi. That’s what they were—supernatural creatures that fed on human energy and life force. And she’d been handed over to one like a meal on a silver platter.

"Grayson mentioned others like him," she whispered, her back hitting the marble balustrade that ringed the pavilion. "He said they would drain me dry without caring how I felt."

"Smart girl." Kieran’s smile revealed teeth that were too sharp, too white. "Though I’m surprised he was honest about that. Most of us don’t warn our food about the risks."

The casual cruelty in his voice, the way he referred to her as ’food,’ sent rage flooding through her system alongside the terror. She’d been manipulated, used, treated like nothing more than a resource to be consumed.

"I have to get out of here," she said, looking desperately around the pavilion for another exit. "I have to wake up."

"I’m afraid it’s too late for that," Kieran said, his form now fully transformed into something that was beautiful and terrible in equal measure.

His skin had taken on an otherworldly luminescence, and power rolled off him in waves that made the air itself seem to thicken. "You see, the moment you accepted my help, you gave me permission to override his claim. You’re mine now."

Before she could react, his hand shot out and caught her wrist, his grip like iron despite the gentleness of his touch. Immediately, she felt something change—a shift in the very fabric of reality around them.

The world became hypersaturated, colors bleeding into each other like watercolors in rain. Her body felt suddenly heavy and light at the same time, as if she were floating in warm honey.

"That’s it," Kieran murmured, his voice now carrying supernatural harmonics that seemed to bypass her conscious mind and speak directly to her body. "Just relax. Let me show you pleasures your current owner never dreamed of."

His other hand came up to cup her face, and she felt her resistance crumbling like sand in the tide. This was different from Grayson’s seduction—where Grayson had been passionate but careful, Kieran was purely predatory. There was no love in his touch, no consideration for her pleasure or pain.

He was going to drain her completely, and he was going to enjoy every moment of her destruction.

"No," she managed to whisper, but the word came out weak and breathless. Her body was betraying her, responding to his supernatural influence despite her mind’s desperate protests.

"Yes," he corrected, his golden eyes boring into hers with hypnotic intensity. "You’ll find that resistance only makes the feeding more intense. More painful for you, more pleasurable for me."

His mouth descended toward hers, and she could feel the pull beginning—that same terrible emptiness she’d felt with Grayson, but magnified a hundredfold. This wasn’t the careful, measured feeding of someone who wanted her to survive. This was consumption, pure and simple.

She was going to die in this dream-pavilion, and no one would ever know what had happened to her.

Just as Kieran’s lips were about to touch hers, the entire pavilion exploded in a blast of silver light that sent him flying backward across the marble floor.

"Get your hands off her."

The voice that cut through the air was cold as winter steel and sharp enough to draw blood. Grayson stood at the pavilion’s entrance, his blue eyes blazing with an inhuman fury that made the air around him shimmer with heat distortion.

But this wasn’t the gentle, romantic man from their endless honeymoon.

This was something primal and dangerous, something that had been unleashed by the sight of another creature touching what belonged to him.

"Grayson," Mailah breathed, and the relief in her voice was so profound it was almost a sob.