Chapter 404: The Guard 1

"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.

"He possesses a soothing aura, Mailah," Grayson muttered quietly, his deep voice rich with raw, petty vulnerability. "He touched your ankle, and you smiled as if he had brought you a rare treasure. When I touch you, I am forced to exercise control so my strength does not hurt your fragile skin. I cannot give you a soft summer breeze. I am a creature born of shadows, war, and cold rain."

Mailah looked into his dark, troubled eyes. She felt a surge of affection for her dramatic demon husband, but she deliberately kept her expression calm and thoughtful. She did not rush to stroke his cheek, nor did she offer an instant, reassuring promise that Ethan meant nothing to her.

Instead, Mailah patted his broad knee with gentle composure.

"Grayson, you have your own strengths," Mailah said clearly, looking straight into his eyes. "You don’t need to try to be a spring fairy. You are powerful, you protect this house, and you take care of every single detail. Besides, I am already your wife."

Grayson stilled. His dark eyes narrowed by a fraction of a millimeter.

He did not look comforted. In fact, his sharp mind processed her exact wording with terrifying, lawyer-like precision.

"You... did not deny it," Grayson whispered softly. His deep voice dropped into a dark, dramatic register that made the candle flames flicker.

Mailah blinked. "What?"

"You did not deny what I said," Grayson declared, sitting up straighter, his dark eyes locked on her face with profound shock. "I stated that his presence was pleasant and that his aura was like a warm summer breeze. A devoted wife would have instantly claimed that the fairy was repulsive, that his smile was ugly, and that his spring magic was repulsive to her senses! Yet you merely cited my ’strengths’ and reminded me of our legal marital contract!"

Mailah had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning. "Grayson, that’s not what I meant—"

"I shall now spend the night reflecting upon this profound betrayal," Grayson stated haughtily, standing up from the rug.

"Grayson, it’s not a betrayal!" Mailah called out, but the tall demon prince simply smoothed his grey sweater, gave her a regal, brooding look, and marched out of the sunroom with sweeping, dramatic strides.

By Thursday morning at eight forty-five, the sunroom had been transformed into what looked like an elite military training center.

Grayson had cleared away the pink blanket fort. In its place stood a single, pristine velvet lounge chair for Mailah, perfectly positioned near the glass doors where the morning light was softest. Beside it, Grayson had set up a small table featuring a digital stopwatch, a stainless steel measuring tape, a clipboard, and three separate silver whistles.

Grayson himself stood near the entrance of the sunroom. He wore a sharp black turtleneck sweater that emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist, dark trousers, and a heavy silver watch. He looked like an ancient king acting as a stern athletic judge.

Mailah sat on the velvet chair, sipping her warm tea, watching him with an amused smile. "Grayson, why do you have three whistles?"

"One for starting the set, one for ending the set, and one to signal an immediate foul if the fairy violates spatial boundaries," Grayson replied coldly, checking his watch. "It is eight fifty-eight. He has two minutes before he is marked as tardy."

At exactly nine o’clock, the front door chime rang.

Grayson’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. He walked down the hallway with slow, deliberate steps, unlocked the heavy door, and pulled it open.

Ethan stood on the porch, holding his digital tablet and a small gym bag. He wore a grey athletic shirt today—slightly looser than the previous polo—and gave Grayson a polite, cheerful nod.

"Good morning, Mr. Grayson! On time as promised," Ethan said smoothly.

"Your punctuality is barely acceptable," Grayson stated flatly, stepping aside to let him enter, though he maintained a distance of exactly six inches from Ethan’s shoulder as he escorted him into the sunroom. "Follow me. Do not touch anything on your way."

When Ethan stepped into the sunroom, Mailah sat up and offered a bright, friendly wave. "Good morning, Ethan!"

"Morning, Mailah!" Ethan smiled warmly, his bright blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he walked over to her velvet chair. "How is the ankle feeling today? Did you get any lingering soreness after Tuesday?"

"Not at all!" Mailah said cheerfully, adjusting her soft pillows. "In fact, the tightness was almost completely gone by yesterday afternoon. Whatever you did with that Fae aura really worked wonders."

"That’s great to hear," Ethan chuckled, kneeling comfortably on the soft rug beside her chair. "Fae energy works best when the patient is relaxed and receptive. You have great energy, Mailah. It makes the treatment move twice as fast."

"Really?" Mailah asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. "I’ve always wondered how Fae magic interacts with human nerves. Is it like a heat frequency, or more like cellular stimulation?"

Ethan’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "It’s actually cellular stimulation! We basically align our natural elemental frequency with the body’s natural bio-currents. It’s almost like playing a harmony on a piano."

"That is so cool!" Mailah smiled, resting her chin on her hand, looking completely fascinated. "I’d love to learn more about how that works!"

Beside them, a loud, sharp CLICK echoed through the room.

Grayson had clicked his silver pen so hard the spring nearly shot through the metal casing. He stood directly behind Ethan, leaning his massive body over the therapist like a towering shadow, his dark face frozen in an expression of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Mailah hadn’t reassured him on Tuesday, and now she was sitting there, looking entirely comfortable, relaxed, and deeply fascinated by this twenty-six-year-old fairy! She was leaning close to him, chatting like they were old college friends catching up over coffee.

"We are here for physical rehabilitation, not an academic lecture on woodland biology," Grayson announced, his deep voice smooth as velvet but cold as liquid nitrogen. "Begin the physical manipulations immediately, therapist."

Ethan didn’t seem bothered at all by Grayson’s dark aura. He simply smiled up at Grayson politely. "Right! Let’s get to work."

Ethan turned back to Mailah, pulling a flexible foam roller and a green resistance band from his bag. "Okay, Mailah, today we’re going to work on two things: ankle flexibility and standing balance. First, I’m going to apply a light Fae warmth to the joint while we do five ankle rotations."

Ethan gently placed his warm, gentle hand around Mailah’s heel.

Instantly, that same pleasant, cozy warmth radiated through her leg. Mailah let out a soft, satisfied sigh, her shoulders dropping as her entire body relaxed. "Ah, that feels so good..."

Grayson’s jaw clenched so hard a sharp muscle twitched in his cheek. He took a fast step forward, hovering directly over Ethan’s shoulder.

"Is that level of physical contact essential?" Grayson demanded quietly, glaring down at Ethan’s hand on Mailah’s heel.

"Yes, sir," Ethan explained patiently, slowly guiding Mailah’s foot in a smooth circle. "The manual rotation helps re-align the tendon fibers while the aura warms the tissue. You’re doing great, Mailah. Rotate inward... just like that."

"Like this?" Mailah asked, rotating her foot.

"Perfect," Ethan grinned, giving her an encouraging nod. "You’re a natural at this. Most people struggle with the inward rotation on week four, but you’re super flexible."

"Thanks!" Mailah beamed, feeling accomplished. "I used to do dance when I was younger, so maybe that helps!"

"Oh, really? What kind of dance?" Ethan asked with genuine curiosity as he switched to the outward rotation.

"Mostly contemporary and a bit of ballet," Mailah replied casually. "I stopped when I started working, but I miss it sometimes."

"That explains it!" Ethan laughed lightly, a pleasant, musical sound. "Dancers always have amazing joint awareness. I actually worked with a lot of professional dancers when I was training in the Spring Court."

Mailah gasped softly. "Wait, you have ballet dancers in the Spring Court?!"

"Oh, tons," Ethan smiled. Fae festivals are full of music and dance. You’d love the spring festivals, Mailah. The music plays for days, and everyone dances under the blooming trees."

"That sounds absolutely magical," Mailah said softly, her eyes bright with delight.

SKRRRRRT.

A harsh, screeching noise dragged across the hardwood floor.

Grayson had physically dragged a heavy wooden armchair across the room and slammed it down exactly one foot away from Ethan.

Grayson sat down on the chair with supreme, regal elegance. He crossed one long leg over the other, resting his elbows on the wooden armrests, steeled in an imposing, posture of undisputed royal power. He pulled his silver stopwatch from his pocket, started the timer, and stared down his sharp nose at Ethan.

"You have consumed two minutes and forty seconds discussing woodland dance festivals," Grayson declared, his deep voice carrying a terrifying, authoritative weight. "Her insurance does not cover social storytelling. Proceed with the balance training."

Mailah couldn’t take it anymore. She burst out into a small, stifled laugh, hiding her face in her hands. Grayson was acting all brooding, possessive, hilariously petty, yet so wildly handsome in his black turtleneck that it made her heart race despite his dramatic antics.

Ethan cleared his throat, trying to hide his own smile. "Right. Balance training it is!"

Ethan stood up and offered his hand to Mailah. "Okay, Mailah, let’s stand up slowly. I want you to stand on your injured leg for fifteen seconds while holding onto my shoulder for balance."

Mailah placed her hand in Ethan’s and carefully swung her legs off the chair. She stood up slowly, putting her weight on her right leg. It felt a little wobbly, so she naturally reached out and placed her left hand securely on Ethan’s broad shoulder to steady herself.

Ethan stood firm, offering a steady, professional anchor. "Got your balance?"

"Yep! Got it," Mailah said, concentrating on her foot.

"Great. Now gently lift your left foot two inches off the floor," Ethan instructed gently. "I’ll hold you steady."

Mailah lifted her foot. She wavered slightly, her fingers tightening on Ethan’s shoulder as she adjusted her core strength. "Whoa... okay, a little shaky!"

"You’re doing fine, just lean into my shoulder if you need—"

Before Ethan could finish his sentence, Grayson moved.

He didn’t use demon speed, but his swift, majestic stride was so fast he seemed to cut through the air itself.

In a single fluid motion, Grayson stepped into the space beside Mailah, brushed Ethan’s arm aside with firm, undisputed force, and wrapped his long, powerful arm securely around Mailah’s waist. He pulled her flush against his broad chest, anchoring her body against his solid frame like an unshakeable mountain.

Mailah gasped, her back pressed firmly against Grayson’s warm, dark turtleneck.

Grayson stared down at Ethan with cold, triumphant arrogance, his dark eyes burning with undisputed possessiveness.