CHAPTER 46: CHAPTER 46: THE INTRODUCTION 1

FOR THE NEXT MINUTES, Mailah found herself straining to hear every sound from the hallway, hoping for a glimpse of Grayson even though Dr. Morrison seemed determined to position himself between her and the door at all times.

It was becoming increasingly clear that the good doctor had appointed himself as their personal chaperone, ensuring that the prescribed separation was maintained to the letter.

The steady rhythm of pacing footsteps continued outside her door, occasionally pausing as if their owner was debating whether to knock.

Each time the footsteps stopped, Mailah held her breath, hoping Grayson would give in to whatever impulse was driving him to wear a path in the hallway carpet.

But each time, the pacing would resume, leaving her both frustrated and oddly comforted by the knowledge that he was struggling with their enforced separation as much as she was.

Dr. Morrison, for his part, seemed to find the entire situation both amusing and professionally challenging. He moved about the room with practiced efficiency and generally acting like a man who had no intention of leaving his post anytime soon.

"You know," Mailah said after another particularly long pause in the pacing, "I think you’re taking this chaperone thing a bit too seriously."

"Am I?" Soren replied innocently, though she caught the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "I prefer to think of it as ensuring my patients follow medical advice."

Before Mailah could respond, the sound of another voice drifted through the door—feminine, authoritative, and slightly exasperated.

"Grayson, what exactly do you think you’re accomplishing by wearing a hole in the floor?" Vivienne’s crisp tones carried clearly through the heavy wood. "Dr. Morrison was quite specific about the need for complete separation."

There was a pause, and though Mailah couldn’t make out Grayson’s response, the low rumble of his voice sent an unwelcome flutter through her chest.

"No, I don’t care how concerned you are," Vivienne continued, her tone taking on the quality of someone who had dealt with stubborn supernatural beings for far too long. "You’re going to march yourself to your room, take a proper rest, and stop behaving like a lovesick teenager. It’s undignified."

The footsteps ceased abruptly, and Mailah imagined she could hear Grayson’s resigned sigh even through the door.

"That’s better," Vivienne said with satisfaction. "Now come along. You look terrible, and that’s saying something for your kind."

The sound of retreating footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing fainter until they disappeared entirely.

The silence that followed felt strangely empty, as if some vital energy had been drained from the very air.

Dr. Morrison had been watching her face during the entire exchange, and she caught his knowing look as he reached for the vial of restorative elixir.

"Wait," Mailah said quickly, holding up a hand to stop him. "Could we postpone that for a bit? I just woke up, and I’m not ready to sleep again."

Soren paused. "The elixir doesn’t necessarily induce sleep," he said carefully. "It simply helps your body process the healing more efficiently."

"Still," she insisted, surprised by her own reluctance to drink the magical concoction. "I’d rather stay awake for a while longer. I feel like I’ve been unconscious for weeks."

"Three..four days," Soren corrected gently, but he set the vial aside nonetheless. "Very well. But no more than a few hours. Your body needs the accelerated healing the elixir provides."

An awkward silence settled over the room, broken only by the soft whisper of curtains stirring in an unfelt breeze.

Mailah found herself studying Dr. Morrison with new interest, suddenly curious about this supernatural being who seemed to know so much about Grayson and the world they inhabited.

"Can I ask you something?" she said finally.

"Of course," Soren replied, settling back into his chair with the air of someone prepared for a long conversation.

"What exactly are you? I mean, I know you’re a doctor, but as you said, not human."

A small smile played at the corners of Soren’s mouth, but she noticed something guarded in his expression—a careful weighing of how much to reveal.

"That’s... a complicated question," he said finally.

"More complicated than dating an incubus?" Mailah asked with a slight smile.

Soren laughed despite himself, but the guardedness remained. "You’d be surprised. Some truths about the supernatural world are... sensitive. Dangerous, even, if shared with the wrong people."

Mailah studied his face, noting the way he seemed to be wrestling with some internal debate. "You’re worried about trusting me," she said quietly. "About telling a human your secrets."

"Can you blame me?" Soren asked, though not unkindly. "Humans have a rather unfortunate history of hunting and destroying what they don’t understand."

"That’s fair," Mailah acknowledged. "But you should know—even if I wanted to betray your trust, who would believe me? If I went around telling people I was living with an incubus and being treated by a supernatural doctor, they’d have me committed faster than you could say ’psychiatric evaluation.’"

Something in her tone—the quiet sincerity, perhaps, or the self-deprecating humor—seemed to reach him.

Soren studied her face for a long moment, his ancient eyes searching for something she couldn’t name.

"Besides," she added softly, "you’re helping me. You’re helping Grayson. Why would I want to hurt people who’ve shown me nothing but kindness?"

The silence stretched between them, and she could practically see him weighing risks and benefits in his mind.

Finally, he seemed to come to some internal decision.

"I’m a phoenix," he said quietly, the words carrying the weight of centuries of secrecy. "One of the last of my kind, actually."

Mailah blinked, trying to process this revelation. "A phoenix. Like... fire and rebirth and all that?"

"Among other things, yes," Soren said, seeming to relax slightly now that the secret was out. "My kind are natural healers—it comes with the territory of death and resurrection. We understand life force, renewal, restoration in ways that other supernatural beings simply can’t."

"How long have you been..." she gestured vaguely, "doing this?"

"Practicing medicine? Oh, roughly eight hundred years, give or take a decade." He said it so casually that it took a moment for the number to truly register.