Chapter 398: The Demon Husband 2

By six o’clock in the evening, they had returned to the estate.

Outside, a heavy, peaceful rain had begun to fall again, tapping softly against the wide glass dome of the sunroom. Inside, the room was a bright, breathtaking paradise.

Grayson had spent the last hour placing the dozens of fresh yellow roses into tall crystal vases, arranging them around the yellow rug, near the green monstera plants, and alongside the glowing strings of golden fairy lights. The room smelled heavenly—a sweet mix of fresh rain, warm wood, and fragrant yellow roses.

Mailah sat comfortably on her long sofa, wrapped in her fluffy pink blanket, watching Grayson work.

He had finally taken off his duck apron, but he was still wearing the soft cream sweater. He walked over to the sofa, carrying a small silver tray with two fresh cups of tea. He set the tray down on the coffee table and sat on the soft yellow rug right at her feet.

He leaned his back against the edge of the sofa, looking up at her with quiet, peaceful eyes.

Mailah reached out from under her blanket, pulling out her notepad and pen.

Grayson looked up at the pad, letting out a small, dramatic sigh. "Ah. The trial judgment."

Mailah smiled, clicking her pen. "Let’s see how you did today, Mr. Probation."

She read aloud as she wrote:

Morning Coffee: 8/10 (Brewed at perfect temperature, but the heart looked like a toad)

Wardrobe Compliance: 10/10 (Wore the soft sweater without destroying it)

Flower Shopping: 10/10 (Bought out the entire store due to extreme jealousy)

Public Caretaking: 10/10 (Carried me down the street like a total drama lead)

Mailah stopped writing. She looked down at Grayson’s sharp, handsome face, illuminated by the golden fairy lights and the warm glow of the fire in the corner.

Grayson watched her face, his dark eyes waiting quietly, completely open and vulnerable before her.

Mailah erased the bottom line of the notepad—the line that sentenced him to couch duty.

In its place, she wrote in big, bold letters:

BED PRIVILEGES: RESTORED IMMEDIATELY

PROBATION STATUS: EXTENDED (DAILY HUSBAND EVALUATION REQUIRED)

Grayson’s dark eyes locked onto the page. He read the lines once. He read them twice.

He looked over at Mailah, his dark eyebrows raised in dramatic, aristocratic disbelief. "Bed privileges restored... but probation remains active?"

"Of course," Mailah smiled innocently, clicking her red pen. "You left me alone for four whole weeks, Grayson. One day of yellow roses, onion tears, and a blanket fort does not wipe the entire slate clean. The sofa sentence is over, but you are still under strict observation."

Grayson stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, a broad, handsome smile spread across his face, lighting up his dark eyes with pure, irresistible warmth. He didn’t argue. He didn’t complain.

"An acceptable compromise," Grayson whispered smoothly.

He didn’t hesitate. He stepped over to the sofa, sat beside her, and wrapped his long, powerful arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his broad chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a long, shaky breath that felt warm against her skin.

"Thank you, Mailah," Grayson whispered softly, his voice thick with deep, genuine emotion. "Thank you for letting me come back to your side."

Mailah wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him tight, feeling the solid, living warmth of his body.

"Grayson?" Mailah murmured into his soft sweater.

"Yes, my love?"

"You never really told me... what was it like? Those four weeks in the city?"

Grayson stilled for a moment. He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes with a quiet, serious gaze.

"It was quiet," Grayson admitted softly. "And cold. I have lived for hundreds of years, Mailah. I have seen empires fall and ages pass. But those four weeks without you felt longer than three centuries. Every morning I woke up in that small apartment, I looked at the quiet room and realized that without you, my life is just empty noise."

He took her hand, pressing her palm against his cheek, leaning into her warm touch.

"I didn’t just go to learn how to treat a human wife," Grayson whispered, his dark eyes shining with intense devotion. "I went because I was terrified that a dark creature like me would ruin your life. But being away from you taught me the ultimate truth."

"What truth?" Mailah asked softly, her heart beating fast.

"That I would rather be a foolish, clumsy husband learning how to chop onions and buy pink blankets every single day than spend another second existing without you," Grayson said, his voice absolute and unwavering. "You are my home, Mailah. You are my only anchor."

Mailah felt tears warm her eyes, her chest so full of love it felt like it might burst. She leaned up, cupping his face with both hands, and brought her lips to his.

The kiss was slow, deep, and filled with a sweet, breathless passion that made the rest of the world melt away completely. Grayson held her gently, his touch soft and reverent, as if she were the most precious treasure in the universe.

When they finally broke apart, the rain was pattering softly against the glass roof above, surrounding them in a cocoon of quiet warmth.

Mailah rested her forehead against his, a playful smile returning to her lips.

"Well," Mailah whispered, poking his chest gently. "Since your bed privileges are back... does that mean we can disassemble the pink blanket fort now?"

Grayson looked over at the bright, ridiculous pink tent sitting in the middle of his grand sunroom, surrounded by yellow rugs and fifty yellow roses.

He turned back to Mailah, a low, smooth smirk spreading across his handsome face.

"Absolutely not," Grayson declared with dramatic authority, pulling the pink blanket tighter around both of their shoulders. "It is structurally sound, highly thermal, and built with my own two hands. We are sleeping in the fort tonight."

Mailah burst into a bright, happy laugh, leaning back into his arms as he pulled her down into the soft cushions. And there, inside their cozy pink sanctuary, surrounded by color, light, and endless devotion, they spent the night together—holding hands tightly until sleep took them both.

When Mailah woke up the next morning, the soft morning light was streaming through the pink fabric of the fort.

She reached out her hand, expecting to find Grayson next to her. Instead, her fingers hit empty space. But before she could panic, a delicious smell filled the air—the rich aroma of freshly toasted bread, sizzling butter, and warm honey.

Mailah crawled to the opening of the fort and peeked out.

Grayson was standing in the sunroom. He had traded his soft sweater for a crisp black shirt, but he was still proudly wearing the bright yellow duck apron. In his hands, he held a wooden tray stacked high with fluffy pancakes, fresh strawberries, and two glass cups of orange juice.

Beside the tray lay a brand-new leather notebook.

"Good morning, Mailah," Grayson greeted her, stepping over with imperial grace. He knelt beside the fort and set the tray down with total care. "I have prepared morning nourishment. Human speed only. Zero magic involved."

Mailah sat up, rubbing her eyes with a smile. "Grayson, this looks amazing! What is the notebook for?"

Grayson picked up the leather book and opened it with grand seriousness.

"This is my Daily Probation Task Log," Grayson announced proudly. "Since my probation remains active, I have outlined my duties for today to ensure maximum efficiency and high husband performance."

Mailah choked on a laugh. "You made a task log?!"

"A true leader plans ahead," Grayson said stiffly, adjusting his apron. "Item one: Breakfast delivery in bed—completed. Item two: Hair brushing using Entry Forty-Two protocol—pending. Item three: Learning how to operate the laundry machine without using dark magic to dry the clothes—scheduled for two o’clock."

Mailah looked at his sharp, handsome face, so dead serious about laundry and pancakes, and her heart completely melted.

"And what happens if you complete all three items?" Mailah asked, leaning closer to him.

Grayson set the notebook down. He leaned into the fort, placing one broad hand on the pillow next to her head. His dark eyes burned with a soft, romantic fire that made her breath catch in her throat.

"If I complete them successfully," Grayson whispered, his deep voice smooth and sweet, "I will ask for my afternoon reward."

"And what reward is that, my demon lord?"

"Five minutes of kissing without any notebook notes," Grayson murmured, leaning down to press a warm, lingering kiss to her lips. "And zero talk of probation."

Mailah smiled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Task approved, Grayson. You better get to work."

Grayson did not waste a single second. He pulled out a polished silver hairbrush from his pocket as if he were drawing a legendary sword.

"Task number two," Grayson stated with sharp focus. "Hair brushing."

He sat behind Mailah in the fort, pulling her gently between his legs. Mailah leaned back against his warm chest, closing her eyes as the soft bristles touched her scalp.

Grayson moved the brush with extreme care. He held his breath, treating every strand of her hair like fragile gold. His posture was so straight and stiff that Mailah could feel his tense jaw against the top of her head.

"Grayson," Mailah giggled softly. "You can breathe. You won’t hurt me."

"Silence, Mailah," Grayson muttered gravely. "This requires total concentration. One bad pull and my probation score drops. I am treating your hair like a royal treasure."

Mailah smiled, reaching back to pat his arm. "You are so silly."

"I am dedicated," Grayson corrected smoothly. He set the brush down, turned her around, and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His dark eyes softened with deep affection. "And I am very eager to collect my five minutes of kisses."