CHAPTER 132: CHAPTER 132: THE BREACH

"SHOW ME", Grayson ordered Oliver.

Oliver held out the crystal with trembling hands, and even from several feet away, Mailah could see the damage. What should have been clear and pristine was now blackened, with spiderweb cracks spreading across its surface like veins of darkness.

The air around it seemed to shimmer with residual energy—not the protective hum of functioning wards, but something wrong.

Grayson took the crystal carefully, his expression growing darker with each second of examination. "This is one of the perimeter ward anchors. It shouldn’t be possible to burn these from inside the estate unless—"

"Elin," Mailah breathed, the realization hitting her.

Their eyes met, and she saw her own sudden panic reflected in his face. In all the chaos of the night—the Market, Elara, Mason’s warnings—they’d completely forgotten about the traumatized young woman they’d left sleeping peacefully in the guest wing.

"Elin," Grayson confirmed, already moving.

They ran, Mailah’s heart hammering as she struggled to keep up with Grayson’s supernatural speed. Behind them, Oliver’s confused voice called out, "Who’s Elin? What’s happening?"

But there was no time to explain, no time for anything except the terrible possibilities racing through Mailah’s mind.

What if Varrow had found a way in? What if the ward breach was a targeted attack? What if they were already too late?

The guest wing seemed impossibly far despite being only one floor up and down a single corridor.

Grayson reached Elin’s door first, his hand already raised to break it down if necessary, but it swung open before he could touch it.

Lucien stood in the doorway, his expression serious but not panicked. "I thought I might find you here."

"The ward crystal," Grayson said shortly, barely pausing as he pushed past the angel into the room.

"Burnt," Lucien confirmed. "I felt a momentary glitch in the estate’s defenses about ten minutes ago. Nothing major, but enough to make me investigate." His gaze shifted to Mailah and Oliver, who had just caught up, breathless and worried. "I’ve done several rounds. No intruders that I could detect."

"That you could detect," Grayson repeated, his attention already fixed on the bed where Elin lay sleeping. She looked peaceful enough—curled on her side, her breathing steady and deep.

"She’s fine," Lucien said quietly. "Whatever caused the ward to burn, it didn’t reach her."

Grayson moved closer to the bed, his hand hovering over Elin as if checking for something invisible. After a moment, he relaxed slightly. "Her life force is stable. No signs of interference."

"Then what caused the ward to fail?" Mailah asked, moving to stand beside him.

"That," Lucien said, "is an excellent question. Ward crystals don’t just burn on their own. They’re designed to withstand massive amounts of magical pressure. For one to fail like this..." He trailed off, his expression troubled.

Oliver appeared in the doorway, Shadow perched on his shoulder and looking unusually alert. "Okay, seriously, who is Elin and why are we all standing in her room at midnight?"

"She’s under our protection," Mailah explained quietly. "We rescued her from a pain-feeding demon at the anniversary. She’s been recovering here."

Oliver’s eyes widened. "A pain-feeding demon? Like Varrow?"

"Exactly like Varrow," Grayson confirmed grimly. "Which is why a breach in the wards is particularly concerning. If he found a way past our defenses—"

"He didn’t," Lucien interrupted. "I would have sensed him. No demon has crossed the perimeter tonight."

"Then what?" Mailah asked, frustration bleeding into her voice. "The crystal didn’t burn itself."

Shadow jumped from Oliver’s shoulder and padded across the room to Elin’s bed. The cat circled once, sniffed carefully at the sleeping woman, then sat down and began grooming itself with apparent unconcern.

"The familiar doesn’t sense any threat," Oliver observed. "That’s... actually kind of reassuring? Shadow’s never wrong about danger."

"Shadow’s also a cryptic pain in the ass," Lucien muttered, but there was no real heat in his words. "Though you’re right—if there was an immediate threat, he’d be considerably more agitated."

Grayson stared at the burnt crystal in his hand, his jaw tight with thought. Finally, he looked at Lucien. "Could the glitch have been internal?"

Lucien’s expression shifted to consideration. "It’s possible."

"So she might have accidentally fried the ward crystal herself?" Mailah asked, incredulous.

"In her sleep, without meaning to," Lucien confirmed. "It’s rare, but not unheard of in humans who’ve been significantly exposed to supernatural energy. The wards are designed to protect against external threats, not internal ones. They wouldn’t know how to handle power emanating from someone they’re supposed to be protecting."

Oliver had been listening with growing alarm. "Does that mean she’s dangerous? Should we be worried?"

Grayson looked at Lucien. "Can you watch her for the rest of the night? I need to check the other ward crystals, make sure this was an isolated incident."

"Of course," Lucien agreed. "Though I should mention—if this happens again, we might want to consider putting her in a different part of the estate."

"Or," Mailah suggested, "we could help her learn not to cause power surges in the first place."

Grayson’s expression softened as he looked at her. "You realize that means bringing in more specialists? More people who’ll need to know about her, about us?"

"I realize that means helping someone who needs it," Mailah replied. "Isn’t that the whole point?"

His smile was brief but genuine. "You’re going to be the death of my carefully maintained paranoia."

They left Elin’s room quietly, Lucien settling into a chair by the window to maintain his vigil while Oliver and Shadow chose to stay as well—apparently Shadow had decided Elin needed additional supervision, and Oliver had learned not to argue with his familiar’s judgment.

The hallway felt too quiet as Grayson and Mailah made their way back toward their respective rooms. The adrenaline of the evening was finally wearing off, leaving behind bone-deep exhaustion and the kind of wired tension that made sleep seem impossible despite how badly she needed it.

"I should check the other crystals," Grayson said as they reached the landing, but his voice lacked conviction.

"You should rest," Mailah countered. "Lucien can monitor the wards. You’ve been running on fumes and determination for hours."

"I’m fine."

"You’re not," she said gently, stopping him with a hand on his arm. "Grayson, you’re allowed to be tired."

He looked at her, and something in his expression cracked—just slightly, just enough to let her see the exhaustion beneath the control. "I don’t like feeling vulnerable."

"I know," Mailah said softly. "But you don’t have to be invincible. Not with me."

The silence that followed felt weighted with things unsaid. Then, quietly, almost hesitantly, Grayson asked, "Would you... would you mind if I stayed with you? Just for a while. I don’t..." He trailed off, looking frustrated with himself.

"You don’t want to be alone," Mailah finished for him. "After everything tonight. I understand. Come on."

They walked to her room—the master suite that had been Lailah’s, that had gradually become Mailah’s, that somehow felt like theirs in the quiet moments between chaos.

She left the door open behind them, a subtle signal that this was comfort rather than anything more complicated, and settled onto the bed with deliberate casualness.

Grayson hesitated at the threshold, and Mailah could practically see him wrestling with himself. His careful control versus his desire for comfort. His fear of feeding versus his need to be close.

"I won’t sleep with you," he said finally, the words coming out rougher than probably intended. "I mean—I won’t actually sleep. It’s still too dangerous. If I start feeding unconsciously—"

"Then you’ll stop yourself," Mailah said with more confidence than she felt. "Like you did before. But if you’re worried, we can leave the lights on. Or you can just lie beside me without sleeping. Whatever makes you feel safe."

His laugh was short and slightly bitter. "When did you become the one making me feel safe?"

"Probably around the time you stopped being the terrifying demon lord and started being the man who rides buses and threatens to burn worlds," Mailah replied, patting the space beside her. "Come on. We’re both exhausted, and I don’t want to spend what’s left of tonight alone either."

He moved then, crossing the room with that fluid grace that never quite seemed human but no longer seemed threatening either. He settled beside her on top of the covers—a careful distance maintained, but close enough that she could feel his warmth.

For a long moment, they just lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling and processing the impossible day they’d survived together.

"Thank you," Grayson said quietly. "For tonight. For not running when you saw what I’m capable of when I’m angry."

"Why would I run?" Mailah turned her head to look at him. "You were protecting me. Protecting all of us. That’s not scary—that’s heroic. In a slightly apocalyptic, world-burning sort of way, but still."

His smile was soft in the dim light. "You have a very unusual definition of heroic."

"I have an unusual boyfriend," Mailah replied. "Fiancé. Whatever we’re calling this."

"Partner," Grayson said after a moment’s thought. "In everything that matters."

The word settled between them, warm and right. Partner. Not demon and human, not powerful and vulnerable, but equals choosing to face the world together.

Mailah felt herself relaxing despite the lingering adrenaline, her body finally accepting that they were safe, that the crisis had passed, that sleep was not only possible but necessary.

Her eyes drifted closed, and she was distantly aware of Grayson’s hand finding hers, their fingers linking together in that familiar gesture that had become second nature.

"Goodnight, Mailah," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Grayson," she murmured back, already sliding into sleep.

She didn’t feel him shift closer an hour later, when he finally let himself relax against her. Didn’t hear him whisper words in a language older than memory, a promise or a prayer or maybe both. Didn’t see the way his eyes stayed open, watchful and protective, even as his body finally allowed itself to rest beside hers.

But somewhere in her dreams, she knew he was there. Knew he was keeping watch.

What neither of them knew—what even Lucien’s careful rounds hadn’t detected—was the shadow.

It was older, stranger. And it had been waiting for an opening exactly like this.

Now it was inside the estate, patient and silent, biding its time. Watching. Learning. Waiting for the perfect moment to reveal itself.

And in the quiet hours before dawn, it smiled.

If shadows could smile.