CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER 42: THE THRESHOLD

"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.

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.

The sound of his name on her tongue seemed to anchor something in him. For just a moment, his blazing gaze shifted to her, and she saw a flicker of concern in his eyes. But when his attention returned to Kieran, the fury blazed brighter than before.

"Possessive, are we?" Kieran snarled, picking himself up from the floor with liquid grace. His golden eyes had taken on a feral gleam that spoke of imminent violence. "She came with me willingly. That makes her fair game."

"She came with you because you deceived her," Grayson replied, his voice carrying a deadly calm that was somehow more terrifying than shouting would have been. "Because you preyed on her doubts and manipulated her into trusting you."

He stepped into the pavilion. This was Grayson as she’d never seen him—not the careful, controlled man, but something wild and protective and absolutely lethal.

"And you haven’t been manipulating her?" Kieran laughed, but there was an edge of nervousness to it now. "At least I was honest about my intentions. You’ve been lying to her from the moment she arrived in this realm."

The accusation hit Mailah, confirming doubts she’d tried to push away. But even as the truth of Kieran’s words sank in, she found herself drawn to Grayson’s response, waiting to see how he would defend himself.

"Yes," Grayson said simply, his gaze never leaving Kieran’s face. The admission was stark, unadorned by justification or excuse. "I have. But that doesn’t give you the right to steal what’s mine."

The possessiveness in his voice should have frightened her. Instead, it sent warmth flooding through her chest, pushing back the terrible cold that Kieran’s touch had left behind.

Whatever Grayson was, whatever he might have done to her, he had come for her. He had found her when she was in danger and fought to protect her.

"Mine?" Kieran’s voice rose to a shriek of rage. "She’s food, nothing more! A temporary source of sustenance! You’ve grown weak, if you think she’s anything more than that!"

"Then you understand nothing about power," Grayson replied, and suddenly he was moving—not walking, but flowing like liquid shadow across the pavilion floor.

The two incubi collided in the center of the space with a sound like thunder, their supernatural forms blazing with power as they fought for dominance.

They moved too fast for human eyes to follow, a blur of silver and gold light that left afterimages seared into Mailah’s vision.

But even in the midst of battle, she could see the difference between them. Kieran fought with pure savage hunger, seeking only to dominate and consume. Grayson fought with the focused precision of someone protecting something precious, something worth dying for.

The battle lasted only moments, though it felt like hours. When the light finally faded, Kieran lay crumpled against the pavilion’s far wall, his golden eyes dim with defeat.

"This isn’t over," he gasped, his perfect features already beginning to fade as his hold on the dream realm weakened. "Others will come. Others who won’t be so easily discouraged."

"Let them come," Grayson said, his voice carrying a promise that made the air itself seem to tremble. "They’ll find the same welcome you did."

Kieran’s form dissolved into golden mist, his final words echoing through the pavilion like a curse: "She’ll never be safe. Not as long as she carries that essence. Not as long as she’s with you."

Then he was gone, leaving only the scent of sulfur and bitter disappointment behind.

Grayson turned to Mailah, his expression shifting from inhuman fury to human concern in the space of a heartbeat. The transformation was so complete she almost wondered if she’d imagined the terrifying creature he’d become.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his hands hovering over her as if he was afraid to touch her, afraid of what his own contact might do.

"I’m okay," she managed, though her voice was shaky with the aftermath of terror and adrenaline. "He didn’t... he didn’t finish whatever he was trying to do."

"Good." The relief in Grayson’s voice was profound. "If he had completed the feeding, I might not have been able to get you back."

The words hung between them, loaded with implications that made her heart race for entirely different reasons. Get her back from what? Death? Something worse than death?

"Grayson," she began, then stopped, unsure how to voice the questions that were tumbling through her mind. "You were really going to drain me dry...Was it all just... feeding?"

For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. His blue eyes held hers with an intensity that seemed to see straight through her, weighing and measuring something she couldn’t understand.

"You deserve the truth," he said finally. "All of it. But not here, not in this place where others can find you. Let me take you somewhere safe first."

She wanted to demand answers now. But the memory of Kieran’s predatory smile, of how easily he had manipulated her doubts and fears, made her hesitate. The dream realm suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable—a place where other hunters might be waiting for their chance to strike.

"Where?" she asked, and was proud that her voice came out steady despite the chaos of emotions swirling through her chest.

Instead of answering with words, Grayson extended his hand to her. The gesture was simple, almost mundane after the supernatural violence she’d just witnessed. But there was something profound in it—a request rather than a demand, an offer of choice rather than compulsion.

"Trust me," he said quietly. "One more time. I know I don’t deserve it after everything I’ve done, but trust me to keep you safe."

The plea in his voice was almost her undoing. But was this the real Grayson, or just another mask designed to keep her compliant?

Only one way to find out.

She placed her hand in his, feeling the familiar warmth of his touch chase away the lingering cold that Kieran had left behind. His fingers intertwined with hers, gentle but secure, and she found herself drawing comfort from the simple contact.

"Come," he said softly, and began to lead her away from the ruined pavilion.

They walked in silence through the dream landscape, leaving the garden behind. The resort’s gleaming facades faded into memory as they moved deeper into terrain that felt older, wilder, less shaped by conscious thought.

Here, the dream realm showed its true nature—fluid, changeable, responding to emotion and will rather than physical law.

The path beneath their feet shifted from marble to grass to stone to something that felt like clouds made solid. Above them, the sky cycled through impossible colors—coral bleeding into sapphire, gold melting into silver, stars appearing and disappearing like scattered diamonds.

Mailah found herself studying Grayson’s profile as they walked, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes remained fixed on some distant point she couldn’t see.

There was something different about him now, something that spoke of difficult decisions and necessary sacrifices.

"Where are we going?" she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Somewhere you’ll be safe," he replied, but his tone carried undertones she couldn’t interpret.

They crested a small hill, and suddenly the landscape opened up before them in a way that made Mailah’s breath catch in her throat.

They stood at the edge of a cliff that dropped away into infinity, the ground beneath their feet nothing more than a narrow ledge of black stone that seemed to exist independent of any larger landmass.

Above them stretched a sky the color of deep twilight, filled with stars that moved in slow, hypnotic patterns across the heavens. Below them lay nothing—not darkness, not void, but a complete absence that seemed to pull at her soul with invisible fingers.

Mailah took a step back from the edge, her heart hammering against her ribs. The drop was impossible, absolute—looking down into it made her feel as if she might fall forever and never reach bottom.

"Grayson?" she said, uncertainty creeping into her voice as she turned to look at him. "What is this place?"

But he didn’t answer. Instead, his expression had changed, becoming sad and resigned and oddly peaceful. He stood closer to the edge than she would have dared, his clothes and hair stirring in a wind that she couldn’t feel.

"Grayson?" she said, concern creeping into her voice as she studied his strange expression.

He turned to face her then, and in his eyes she saw something that made her blood turn to ice water in her veins.

"Mailah," he said quietly, her name falling from his lips like a benediction, like a goodbye.

"What?" she whispered, though part of her already sensed what was coming.

"I’ll see you on the other side," he said, and before she could react, before she could even draw breath to scream or step away from him, his hands were on her shoulders.

The push came swift and sudden, catching her completely off guard. One moment she was standing on solid ground, staring into Grayson’s tortured blue eyes, and the next she was stumbling backward, her feet losing purchase on the narrow ledge.

"Grayson!" she screamed, his name torn from her throat in a sound of pure shock and betrayal.

And then she was falling, falling into the absolute nothingness below, Grayson’s face growing smaller and smaller above her until it was swallowed by darkness.