CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER 49: THE NIGHTMARE DEMON 1

"WHERE’S GRAYSON?" Mailah managed to ask, proud that her voice remained steady despite the way her pulse had started racing.

Mason’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed just a touch too sharp. "Oh, he’s around somewhere. But I thought it was time I met the woman who’s caused such a stir in our little family."

The way he said ’stir’ made it sound like an accusation, and Mailah felt the first real stirring of fear since Dr. Morrison had declared her recovered.

Whatever Mason Ashford wanted, she had the distinct impression it wasn’t going to be anything resembling a friendly family introduction.

The afternoon sunlight streaming through the study windows seemed to dim, as if the very presence of this unexpected visitor had somehow altered the atmosphere of the room.

And in the sudden shadows, Mason’s silver eyes gleamed with an anticipation that promised nothing but trouble.

"A stir?" Mailah repeated, forcing herself to stand straighter despite the way her instincts screamed at her to flee. "I’m not sure what you mean."

Mason’s laugh was soft and utterly without humor. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." He moved around the desk, each step calculated to reduce the distance between them while simultaneously blocking her path to the door. "You’ve turned my brother into quite the fool, haven’t you?"

The accusation in his voice made her skin crawl, but she refused to back down. "I haven’t turned Grayson into anything. If you have a problem with him, perhaps you should discuss it with him directly."

"But where’s the fun in that?" Mason’s head tilted slightly, studying her with the focused intensity of a cat watching a mouse. "Besides, I find it so much more... illuminating to speak with the source of the problem."

The way he said ’problem’ made it clear that he considered her presence here to be something that needed correcting.

Mailah felt her pulse quicken as she realized she was truly alone with this creature—whatever he was—and that his intentions were far from benign.

"Tell me," Mason continued conversationally, moving closer still, "what is it about you that’s so special? You’re quite lovely, of course, but Grayson has had access to beautiful women before. What makes you different?"

The question felt loaded with danger, as if her answer might determine what happened next.

Mailah found herself backing toward the wall, her recovered strength suddenly feeling fragile in the face of Mason’s predatory attention.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she said, though even to her own ears the words sounded unconvincing.

"Don’t you?" Mason’s silver eyes seemed to glow in the dim light. "My brother, who has spent centuries maintaining perfect emotional detachment, suddenly can’t bear to feed. But now he’s literally starving himself to death over a human woman he barely knows. That doesn’t strike you as... unusual?"

The clinical way he dissected Grayson’s condition sent a chill through her.

There was something deeply wrong with Mason, something that went beyond mere sibling rivalry or concern. The air around him seemed to vibrate with a kind of malevolent energy that made her skin crawl.

"What are you?" she whispered, the words escaping before she could stop them.

Mason’s smile widened, revealing those too-sharp teeth. "Now that’s a much more interesting question. I’m disappointed Grayson hasn’t told you about the family yet. We’re quite a diverse lot, actually."

Before he could elaborate, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Mason’s head turned toward the door, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance, as if he’d been interrupted during a particularly engaging game.

"Mason." Grayson’s voice cut through the tension like a blade as he appeared in the doorway. His blue-gray eyes immediately found Mailah pressed against the wall, then shifted to his brother with an expression of barely controlled fury. "What are you doing here?"

The relief that flooded through Mailah at the sight of him was so intense it nearly buckled her knees.

He looked considerably better than when she’d last seen him—color had returned to his face, and his movements held their familiar fluid grace. But there was something new in his bearing, a protective intensity that hadn’t been there before.

"Grayson," Mason said smoothly, straightening to his full height. "I was just getting acquainted with your... houseguest. She’s quite charming."

The way he said ’charming’ made it sound like an insult.

Grayson’s expression darkened further as he stepped fully into the room, positioning himself between Mailah and his brother.

"I asked what you’re doing here," Grayson repeated, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.

"Checking on my dear brother, of course," Mason replied with mock concern. "When I heard you’re still going to starve yourself to death and over a human, I simply had to see for myself what all the fuss was about."

"And now you’ve seen. You can leave."

Mason laughed, the sound sending icy fingers down Mailah’s spine. "Oh, Grayson. Always so dramatic. I’m simply trying to help. This whole... situation is becoming quite ridiculous. You’re an incubus. Feed. It’s what you’re designed to do."

As he spoke, Mason’s gaze drifted meaningfully to Mailah, and she felt something cold settle in her stomach at the hungry way he looked at her.

"This is none of your concern," Grayson said, his voice dropping to a growl that seemed to vibrate through the very air.

"Isn’t it?" Mason’s expression shifted, becoming more serious, more threatening. "Your emotional entanglement affects all of us, brother. It makes you weak. Vulnerable. And weakness in our kind tends to attract the wrong sort of attention."

"What are you?" Mailah found herself asking again, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

Mason’s attention shifted back to her, his silver eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Didn’t he tell you? I’m a demon like him, darling. I feed on fear, terror, trauma—all those delicious emotions that humans try so hard to suppress."

The casual way he described feeding on human suffering made her stomach turn. But it was Grayson’s reaction that truly frightened her—the way his entire body went rigid, as if Mason had just revealed something catastrophic.

"You have no business here," Grayson said, his voice tight with barely restrained violence. "Leave. Now."

"But I haven’t finished my conversation with your lovely guest," Mason protested, his tone mockingly innocent. "We were just getting to the interesting part."

Before either Grayson or Mailah could react, Mason moved with supernatural speed, crossing the space between them in a heartbeat.

His hand shot out to grasp Mailah’s wrist, and the moment his skin made contact with hers, she felt something fundamental shift.

It was as if a piece of herself had been torn away—not physically, but something deeper, more essential. The sensation was so violating, so wrong, that she cried out in shock and pain.

Grayson’s roar of fury filled the room as he lunged forward, but Mason had already released her and stepped back, wearing an expression of satisfied malice.

"There," Mason said pleasantly, as if he hadn’t just committed some unspeakable violation. "Now we’re properly introduced."

Grayson’s eyes were wide with horror as he stared at his brother. "What did you do?"

"Nothing permanent," Mason assured him, though his smile suggested otherwise. "I simply... sampled the merchandise. A necessary precaution, really."

The implication hit Grayson like a physical blow. Mailah could see the moment he understood, the way his face went pale beneath his fury.

"You wouldn’t dare," he breathed.

Mason’s smile widened. "Wouldn’t I? You see, brother, I now have access to her essence. Her dreams. Her fears. And if you don’t start feeding properly—taking what you need to maintain your strength—I might find myself compelled to pay her a visit in my own realm."

The threat hung in the air between them like a poisonous cloud.

Mailah didn’t fully understand what had happened, but she could feel the wrongness of it in her very bones. Whatever Mason had taken from her, it had created a connection she desperately wanted severed.

"The choice is yours, Grayson," Mason continued conversationally. "Start feeding, or I’ll feed on her terror until there’s nothing left but an empty shell. And trust me, after centuries of practice, I know exactly how to make the experience... memorable."

Grayson’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a moment, Mailah thought he might actually attack his brother. The air in the room seemed to crackle with supernatural tension, as if reality itself was straining under the weight of their confrontation.

"You won’t dare," Grayson repeated, but there was a note of desperation in his voice now.

Mason’s expression shifted to one of mock sympathy. "Oh, my dear brother. You still don’t understand, do you? I’m not the one who’s been playing by human rules all these centuries. I’m not the one who’s forgotten what we are."

He straightened his jacket with casual precision, as if he hadn’t just threatened to psychologically torture an innocent woman. "I’ll give you three days to make your decision. Either you start feeding properly, or I begin mine."

The silence that followed was deafening. Mailah could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, could feel the echo of whatever Mason had stolen from her pulsing like a wound in her chest.

"Three days, Grayson," Mason repeated, moving toward the door with the same predatory grace he’d displayed throughout the encounter. "I do hope you’ll make the right choice."

He paused in the doorway, turning back to flash them both a smile that was all sharp edges and malicious promise.

Grayson stood frozen in the center of the room, his face a mask of anguish and barely controlled rage.

And Mailah, pressed against the wall with her wrist still burning from Mason’s touch, finally understood why Dr. Morrison had warned her so urgently about avoiding stress.

Because looking at Grayson’s devastated expression, she realized that the peaceful reunion she’d hoped for had just become infinitely more complicated—and infinitely more dangerous.