Chapter 403: The Woodland Creature

Grayson drew himself up to his full, imposing height. He squared his broad shoulders, adjusted his grey sweater with royal dignity, and looked down at Dr. Soren with absolute, unyielding authority.

"Two hours a day?" Grayson repeated, his deep voice smooth as polished stone. "That is a trivial requirement. I do not sleep, Soren. I do not tire, nor do I require rest. If consistency is the benchmark of her recovery, I am capable of providing twenty-four continuous hours of physical guidance every single day without interruption."

Dr. Soren let out a long, weary sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at Grayson with the calm, patient eyes of a doctor who had dealt with ancient, dramatic entities far too many times.

"Grayson," Soren said softly, leaning his hip against the edge of the wooden table. "You suppressed your demon senses tonight, didn’t you?"

Grayson’s dark eyebrows pulled together in a sharp, defensive frown. "I am currently observing a human protocol. I am living like a mortal to demonstrate my restraint to my wife. I do not require dark aura detection to evaluate a common human therapist."

"Right," Soren murmured, a subtle, dry smile touching his lips. "Which is precisely why you didn’t notice. Ethan isn’t a human."

The air in the sunroom went completely still.

Grayson froze. His dark eyes flicked slowly from Soren to Ethan, who was still kneeling politely on the soft rug.

"What did you say?" Grayson asked, his deep voice dropping an octave into dangerous velvet.

"Ethan isn’t human," Soren clarified smoothly, gesturing toward the young man. "He’s a Fairy. He specializes in orthopedic therapy because Fae energy naturally calms human nerve endings and stimulates cell growth."

Mailah’s mouth fell open in complete shock.

She stared at Ethan. The broad-shouldered, handsome young man in the tight dark polo shirt gave a timid, sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. Now that Soren had mentioned it, Mailah mentally replayed the moment Ethan had touched her ankle.

A sudden, clear realization washed over her mind.

That’s why! Mailah thought, her eyes widening.

When Ethan had gently flexed her foot earlier, she hadn’t just felt a physical stretch. She had felt a strange, delightful wave of absolute peace wash over her skin. It felt like standing in a warm meadow under a soft spring sun. Her aching joint had instantly relaxed, and a pleasant, soothing sensation had spread through her leg, making her feel cozy, light, and completely at ease.

"Oh!" Mailah gasped out loud before she could stop herself. She looked up at Ethan, her face lighting up with genuine surprise. "That’s why it felt so pleasant! When you touched my foot, it felt so soft and warm... like a gentle breeze on a sunny day! The tightness in my leg completely vanished!"

If the sunroom had been cold before, it was now an arctic wasteland.

Grayson snapped his head toward Mailah so fast his dark hair whipped across his forehead. He stared at his wife with an expression of pure, unadulterated, world-ending betrayal.

"A gentle breeze?" Grayson whispered, his voice trembling with dark, dramatic shock. "A... sunny day?!"

"Grayson, no, I didn’t mean—" Mailah started, realizing her mistake far too late.

Grayson turned his full, terrifying gaze back onto Ethan. The dark demon prince stood as tall as a storm cloud, his jaw locked so tight the muscle twitched wildly. Because he was keeping his demon abilities suppressed, he couldn’t summon dark flames or shadow tendrils, but the sheer, pettiness radiating from his soul was powerful enough to make the glass windows rattle.

He felt infinitely more bothered now than he had two minutes ago. It was one thing for a human male to touch his wife’s leg—that was merely an annoyance to be managed. But a Fairy? A creature whose very essence was made of soft light, pleasant warmth, and natural charm?

In Grayson’s ancient, dark mind, this was a disaster. He was a creature of darkness, cold rain, cedar wood, and heavy shadows. How was he supposed to compete with a creature who naturally smelled like blooming daisies and warm sunshine?!

"You," Grayson hissed, pointing a sharp, accusation-filled finger at Ethan. "You sprayed my wife with floral magic!"

"I didn’t spray anything, sir!" Ethan said quickly, holding his hands up defensively. "Fae biology naturally emits a low-frequency healing aura! It just reduces inflammation and calms the pain receptors in human skin! It’s completely non-intrusive!"

"It is highly intrusive!" Grayson barked, stepping directly between Ethan and Mailah once again, his broad back completely shielding her from the fairy’s existence. "You sneaked your pleasant woodland aura into my sanctuary! You deliberately made my wife feel cozy using fraudulent spring magic!"

Mailah buried her face in her pink blanket, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as she tried not to laugh out loud. It was pure chaos, and her dramatic, centuries-old demon husband was playing his role to perfection.

"Grayson," Soren interrupted calmly, folding his arms. "Fae healing is standard medical practice for human bone trauma. It reduces her recovery time by half. You cannot provide Fae energy, Grayson. You are a demon. Your energy is dark, heavy, and intense."

Grayson looked as if Soren had just stabbed him through the heart with a silver blade. He turned around slowly to look at Mailah, his dark eyes wide, wounded, and deeply brooding.

"Is my energy too dark for you, Mailah?" Grayson asked softly, his deep voice carrying a hilarious, heart-wrenching mix of regal pride and total vulnerability. "Is my presence... lacking in spring breezes?"

"Grayson, stop it!" Mailah wheezed, sitting up and grabbing his dark sweater to pull him down closer to her. "You know I love your presence! You smell like rain and dark wood, and I love it! I was just surprised because I didn’t know he was a fairy!"

Grayson did not look comforted. He looked even more determined.

He looked down at his own large, powerful hands. He clenched them into tight fists, his sharp jaw setting in a stubborn, unyielding line.

"I can produce warmth," Grayson declared fiercely, turning back to face Soren and Ethan. "I possess an internal furnace fueled by ancient fire. I am fully capable of generating a pleasant climate for my wife!"

To prove his point, Grayson reached out and grabbed Mailah’s foot. He held her heel in his large palm and squeezed his eyes shut in deep, agonizing concentration.

He was trying so hard to suppress his dark, destructive energy while simultaneously forcing his body to produce "soft, soothing fairy warmth."

For five agonizing seconds, nothing happened. Grayson’s face grew slightly red from the immense effort. His forehead creased, his sharp eyebrows pulling together as if he were trying to lift a mountain with his mind.

Then, Mailah’s eyes went wide.

"Grayson! Hot! Hot! Hot!" Mailah yelled, kicking her foot slightly.

Grayson instantly let go, opening his eyes in horror. "Did I burn you?!"

"No, but your hand turned into a literal heating pad!" Mailah laughed, rubbing her warm ankle. "You don’t have a ’gentle summer breeze’ setting, Grayson! You only have ’volcano’ or ’ice storm’!"

Ethan let out a quiet, muffled snort of amusement from the floor.

Grayson’s head snapped toward Ethan like a striking cobra. "You find my lack of temperature moderation humorous, woodland creature?"

"No, sir!" Ethan said quickly, wiping the smirk off his face and standing up straight. "Not at all! It’s actually very impressive that you can control your thermal output without using magic."

"I do not require your compliments," Grayson said haughtily, adjusting his sweater cuffs with supreme, aristocratic arrogance. "Soren, state the schedule. But know this: I shall be present for every single second of this physical training. If this fairy attempts to use excessive spring charm on my wife, I shall personally remove his wings."

"Fairies don’t have wings, Grayson," Soren said dryly, picking up his medical bag. "They aren’t pixies."

"I do not care about the specifics of his anatomy!" Grayson snapped back, holding his chin high. "He shall maintain a distance of three feet unless actively manipulating a tendon!"

Soren shook his head, looking over at Mailah with deep sympathy. "Ethan will be here on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday at nine in the morning. That gives Mailah three sessions a week with Fae healing, and you can handle her basic stretches on the off days."

Soren handed the printed exercise sheet to Mailah. "Make sure she drinks plenty of water, Grayson. And try not to incinerate the physical therapist before Thursday."

"I make no promises," Grayson stated flatly, standing like a dark guard beside the sunroom door.

"Have a good evening, Mailah," Soren smiled, heading toward the hallway.

Ethan picked up his digital tablet, bowing politely to Mailah. "It was really nice meeting you, Mailah. Don’t worry, your leg is going to feel amazing after a few sessions. See you Thursday!"

"Thanks, Ethan! See you Thursday!" Mailah called out cheerfully.

Grayson practically marched behind Ethan down the hallway, keeping his broad chest two inches from the fairy’s back until they reached the front door.

"Step briskly, fairy," Grayson commanded quietly as Ethan crossed the threshold. "The night air is cold, and your tight polo shirt offers little protection."

"Uh... thanks for the concern, Mr. Grayson," Ethan said, blinking in confusion as he stepped out into the misty night.

CLANG.

Grayson slammed the heavy oak door shut. He turned the iron lock. He flipped the deadbolt. Then, unable to resist his demonic instincts any longer, he slammed his hand against the wooden door frame, sending a visible pulse of dark, shimmering energy sealing every crack and keyhole shut.

He stood against the door for a long moment, his broad back rising and falling with heavy, agitated breaths.

Mailah leaned against her pillows in the sunroom, listening to the absolute silence of the house.

A moment later, Grayson walked back into the room.

He didn’t walk with his usual majestic, regal stride. He dragged his feet slightly, his broad shoulders slumping just a fraction. He looked like an ancient, brooding king who had just been told that his favorite sword was second-best to a wooden stick.

He marched over to the pink blanket fort, unceremoniously dropped himself onto the soft rug, and sat with his long legs folded, staring silently into the crackling fireplace.

Mailah watched his sharp profile in the golden firelight. His jaw was tight, his dark eyes brooding and deep, filled with an absurd, adorable storm of jealousy and hurt pride.

"Grayson," Mailah called out gently.

Grayson didn’t turn his head. He continued staring at the flames. "Do not speak to me, Mailah. I am currently reflecting on the dramatic inferiority of demon architecture compared to floral meadows."

Mailah couldn’t help it. A soft, sweet giggle bubbled up from her chest.

She crawled out of the blanket fort, sliding over the soft rug until she was sitting right beside him. She reached out, wrapping her arms around his broad, grey-clad waist, resting her cheek against his solid shoulder.

"You are so ridiculous," Mailah murmured fondly, smelling the cold cedar and warm rain scent that clung to his clothes. "Are you really sitting here sulking because Ethan is a fairy?"

Grayson stilled. He slowly turned his head, his dark, intense gaze looking down into her face.