CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER 55: THE DREAM WALKER 1

THE MORNING stretched endlessly before her, each tick of the grandfather’s clock in the corner marking time with agonizing precision.

Mailah found herself pacing the length of the library, Grayson’s note clutched in her hand like a talisman against the growing anxiety that clawed at her chest.

Two days remain.

The words echoed in her mind with the persistence of a funeral bell. Two days before Grayson would have to feed from her, before their carefully constructed mental sanctuary would be put to the ultimate test.

The thought of it sent shivers through her—not entirely from fear, she realized with startling honesty, but from anticipation that burned like liquid fire in her veins.

She had felt his hunger last night, seen the way his control had frayed at the edges when she’d reached for him in her sleep.

The memory of his promises—when this is over, I’m going to worship every inch of you—made her skin flush with heat even in the cool morning air.

But beneath the desire lay a deeper concern. What if the mental sanctuary they’d built wasn’t strong enough? What if, despite all their preparation, she couldn’t survive what was coming?

The thought drove her to the library. The vast room has its soaring shelves and leather-bound volumes.

Dust motes danced in golden beams as she moved between towering shelves filled with books in languages she couldn’t identify. Most appeared to be ancient texts on various esoteric subjects, their spines bearing titles in Latin, Greek, and symbols that seemed to shift when she wasn’t looking directly at them.

She wandered aimlessly between the sections, running her fingers along the leather spines, hoping something—anything—would provide a clue about how to strengthen their defenses.

The task felt overwhelming; there were thousands of volumes here, and she had no idea what she was looking for or where to find it.

Think, Mailah,

she told herself, pausing near what appeared to be a section on consciousness studies. There has to be something about mental protection, about ways to fortify—

THUD.

The sound made her jump, her heart hammering as she spun toward the noise. A thick, ancient-looking book lay open on the marble floor behind her, its pages fluttering as if stirred by an invisible breeze.

She looked up at the shelf it had fallen from—far too high for her to have accidentally knocked it loose, and she hadn’t been anywhere near that section.

A sudden spark seemed to ignite the air in the library, making it crackle with unseen energy, as if some presence had taken notice of her search.

With trembling hands, she approached the fallen book and knelt to examine it. The cover was bound in midnight-blue leather that seemed to shimmer with its own inner light, and when she read the title embossed in silver script, her breath caught in her throat.

Secrets of the Realm Between

As she opened it, the pages revealed themselves to be written in English, though the script was archaic and formal.

"The Dream walker exists in the liminal space where consciousness meets the subconscious, where thoughts take physical form and will becomes reality. To seek one is to risk losing oneself in the infinite maze of sleeping minds, but for those who succeed, the rewards are beyond mortal comprehension..."

She read with growing excitement as the text described beings who could fortify mental defenses from within the dream realm itself, who could teach to weaponize subconscious minds.

It was exactly what she needed—a way to strengthen her mental sanctuary without relying entirely on Grayson.

But the book offered frustratingly little information on how to actually find a Dream walker. The text spoke of "threshold moments" and "liminal spaces," of rituals that required "a guide who walks between worlds." None of which helped her immediate situation.

Unless...

The memory surfaced with startling clarity—an old photograph she’d glimpsed in passing during one of her explorations of the estate. It had shown Grayson looking exactly as he did now, standing beside a young woman with kind eyes and dark hair. At the time, she’d assumed it was just another mystery from his long life, but now she remembered something else about the image.

The woman in the photograph had been wearing the same distinctive cameo brooch that Vivienne Ashford had worn during their first meeting.

Vivienne—who posed as the Ashford matriarch but whose eyes held secrets far deeper than any normal elderly woman should possess.

Vivienne, who clearly served as some kind of guardian to the demon brothers, despite the careful fiction of being their mother.

If anyone would know how to find a Dream walker, it would be her.

The decision made, Mailah found herself moving with renewed purpose. She located Vivienne’s private number in the estate’s contact list and dialed before she could second-guess herself.

"Mailah," Vivienne’s cultured voice came through the phone after only two rings, as if she’d been expecting the call. "What a big surprise."

"I need your help," Mailah said without preamble, appreciating that Vivienne had always preferred directness over social pleasantries. "It’s about the feeding. About what’s going to happen in two days."

There was a pause, and when Vivienne spoke again, her voice carried a weight that made Mailah’s skin prickle with awareness. "I see. And what exactly do you think I can do about that, dear?"

"I’ve been doing some research," Mailah explained, pacing to the window where late morning sunlight streamed across the grounds. "I found information about something called a Dream walker, but I don’t know how to find one."

"Ah." The single syllable held volumes of understanding. "Clever girl. But tell me—why come to me? Surely Grayson would be the more obvious choice for such esoteric knowledge."

Mailah felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Because Grayson is trying to protect me by keeping me safe from his world. You’re trying to protect him by making sure he survives what’s coming. Our goals align."

Vivienne’s laughter was sharp and approving. "My dear, you never failed to surprise me. Yes, I know of the Dream walkers. And yes, I can arrange a meeting. But I must warn you—seeking one out is not without risk. The realm between dreams and waking is not meant for mortal minds."

"I’m willing to take that risk."

"Are you?" Vivienne’s voice turned serious. "Because once you cross that threshold, there’s no guarantee you’ll return unchanged. Dream walkers don’t simply teach—they transform. Whatever you become in that realm may not be entirely human when you emerge."

The warning sent ice through Mailah’s veins, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "Will it help me survive Grayson’s feeding?"

"Possibly. Or it might make you something he can no longer safely feed from at all." Vivienne paused, and Mailah could almost picture her weighing options with that calculating intelligence she’d glimpsed beneath the maternal facade. "Very well. If you’re certain this is what you want, I can open the path. When can you meet?"

"Today," Mailah said quickly, seizing the opportunity. "Grayson probably had to attend to some business matters—he won’t be back until evening. This might be the only chance I have to do this without him knowing."

"Perfect timing." There was something in Vivienne’s tone that suggested this wasn’t coincidence at all. "The barriers between realms are often thinner during daylight hours when most supernatural beings rest. Meet me at the old tower room on the estate’s north side in one hour. It’s been sealed for decades, but I’ll ensure it’s accessible. Come alone, and come prepared for anything. The Dream walkers don’t appreciate visitors who waste their time."

The line went dead, leaving Mailah staring at the phone with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

The next hour passed in a haze of nervous energy. She tried to read, to eat, to focus on anything other than what lay ahead, but her mind kept drifting to the implications of what she was about to do.

More than once, she found herself glancing toward the driveway, half-expecting to see Grayson’s car returning early.

Part of her wanted him to come back, to stop her from taking this risk. But a larger part knew that this was something she had to do on her own terms, without his protective instincts clouding her judgment.

As the appointed time approached, she found herself standing before the mirror in Lailah’s bedroom, studying her reflection as if memorizing it.

Would she look the same after this encounter? Would she still be the same person who had fallen for a starving demon?

The thought of Grayson sent a pang through her chest. When he returned this evening, he would expect to find her safe and waiting for their second night together. The memory of his promises, of the careful way he’d held back his hunger while lying beside her, made her more determined than ever to find a way to meet him as an equal when the time came.

She glanced at the clock—nearly time. Taking a deep breath, she made her way through the estate’s corridors toward the north tower, her footsteps echoing in the afternoon quiet.

The tower room was exactly as foreboding as she’d expected. Located in the oldest part of the estate, it could only be reached by a narrow spiral staircase that seemed to wind upward into darkness itself.

When she pushed open the heavy wooden door, she found a circular chamber filled with shadows that moved independently of the flickering candles Vivienne had somehow arranged around the room’s perimeter.

"You came," Vivienne said, materializing from the darkness near the far window.

But this wasn’t the elderly matriarch Mailah had grown accustomed to. This version of Vivienne stood straighter, moved with fluid grace that spoke of hidden strength, and her eyes held depths that seemed to reflect centuries rather than decades.

"You’re not what you pretend to be," Mailah said, though the observation held no accusation—only fascination.

"Few of us are, dear." Vivienne gestured to the center of the room, where a complex pattern had been drawn on the floor in what looked like silver chalk. "The question is: are you prepared to discover what you truly are?"

"I thought we were meeting a Dream walker."

"Oh, we are." Vivienne’s smile was sharp and knowing. "But first, you must enter the proper state of consciousness. The Dream walkers don’t come to our world—we must go to theirs."

The ritual was unlike anything Mailah could have imagined.

Vivienne had her lie in the center of the silver circle while she moved around the perimeter, speaking in a language that seemed to bypass the ears and resonate directly in the bones.

The candles flickered and danced as if responding to her words, and gradually, the solid walls of the tower room began to feel less... substantial.

"Remember," Vivienne’s voice seemed to come from very far away, "in the dream realm, intention is everything. Doubt will kill you faster than any monster. Hold tight to why you’re there, and don’t let the Dream walker convince you to stay longer than necessary."

The world dissolved.

Mailah found herself standing in a landscape—crystalline spires rose from clouds of shifting mist, while bridges made of starlight connected floating islands that rotated slowly in an aurora-painted sky.

The air itself seemed alive, pulsing with colors that had no names and singing with harmonies that made her soul ache with longing.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" a voice said behind her, and she turned to find herself face-to-face with...

Herself.