Chapter 426: The Emerald Dress

"You are trying to kill me," Grayson whispered hoarsely, his eyes burning with pure, undivided heat and devotion. "You have put on this green dress for the sole purpose of stopping my heart completely."

Mailah’s cheeks flushed a bright, pretty pink. She smiled softly, leaning into his solid chest. "Do you really like it?"

"Like it?" Grayson let out a low, rough breath, resting his forehead against hers. "I want to lock the bedroom door, cancel our dinner reservations, and spend the next thousand years telling you how breath-taking you are right now. You look like a goddess who descended from the heavens just to ruin my sanity."

He leaned down, pressing his lips against the soft curve of her neck with slow, warm kisses that made Mailah’s breath hitch. His touch was firm yet achingly gentle, his large thumbs caressing her waist through the smooth silk of her dress.

"Grayson... we have to go," Mailah breathed softly, her heart pounding happily against her ribs as his lips moved up to her jawline. "The carriage is waiting downstairs."

"Let it wait in the rain," Grayson murmured against her skin, his hands tightening possessively around her waist. "You are the only thing in this entire universe that matters to me."

A loud, violent bang on the heavy bedroom door broke the sweet, romantic moment.

"Are we leaving or what?!" Chloe shouted loudly from the hallway outside. "My shoes are pinching my toes, this dumb dress is too tight, and I feel like an uncomfortable penguin!"

Grayson pulled back slowly, letting out a long, dramatic sigh of pure annoyance. He turned his head to glare at the wooden door as if he wanted to burn it into ash with his mind.

"I am going to throw her off the roof one of these days," Grayson grumbled flatly.

Mailah giggled softly, reaching up on her tiptoes to adjust his black silk bow tie. "No, you won’t. You love having a full house, Grayson. Admit it."

Grayson looked back down at Mailah with an impossibly handsome, wicked smirk. He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I only love you, my queen," Grayson stated with absolute seriousness. "Everyone else on this planet is merely tolerated for your amusement."

The long, black luxury car glided smoothly through the city streets toward the hotel.

Inside the back seat, the atmosphere was a mix of intense romance and utter irritation. Grayson sat with one arm stretched behind Mailah, pulling her small body close against his side. With his other hand, he was carefully holding a heated velvet blanket over Mailah’s knees.

"Is the temperature acceptable, my love?" Grayson asked, his voice softer than velvet. "Is the seat too hard? Should I buy the car company and make them redesign the leather?"

"Grayson, the seat is wonderful," Mailah said, smiling as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You don’t need to buy a car company."

"If it hurts your back for even one second, I will burn the entire factory," Grayson declared plainly.

Across from them, Chloe sat on the plush leather bench, slouching down as low as possible. She was wearing a deep blue formal dress that looked far too grand for her, paired with a pair of flat black school shoes. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest.

"Can you two please stop?" Chloe groaned, rolling her eyes toward the roof of the car. "I am sitting right here. I am forced to wear a dress that feels like a cardboard box, and now I have to watch a thousands-of-years-old dark lord act like a needy puppy."

Grayson didn’t even blink. He kept his eyes on Mailah’s soft hair, running his long fingers through her dark curls.

"Sit up straight, child," Grayson commanded coldly, his tone dropping into his dark authority without missing a beat. "You look like a sack of laundry. When we arrive, you will walk three steps behind us, keep your mouth shut, and pretend you have actual manners."

"I hate you," Chloe muttered. "I really, truly hate you."

"The feeling is completely mutual," Grayson replied with total calm. "The only reason you are in this vehicle instead of running behind it in the rain is because Mailah took pity on you."

"Grayson, be nice," Mailah murmured, lightly patting his chest.

Instantly, Grayson’s harsh face melted into total, helpless devotion. "Of course, my love. Whatever you wish. I shall treat the nuisance with absolute grace." He looked back at Chloe with a sharp side-eye. "You may breathe my air for another ten minutes."

Chloe made a loud gagging noise, leaning her head against the car window. "I should have stayed in the dungeon. At least the dark spells didn’t talk about feelings."

The Grand Regent Hotel in the center of the human city was bright, grand, and packed with the city’s highest social class. Crystal chandeliers hung from the massive high ceilings, casting golden light over women in expensive diamond dresses and men in crisp dark tuxedos.

A dark, sleek luxury car pulled up to the red carpet out front.

The valet quickly stepped forward and opened the back door. Grayson stepped out first. The moment his polished leather shoes touched the carpet, several human photographers and reporters stopped in their tracks to stare. His broad shoulders, towering height, sharp jawline, and commanding aura instantly drew every eye in the courtyard.

Grayson didn’t care about the cameras or the whispers. He turned right back around, extending his long hand with grand, dramatic care to help Mailah out of the car. He kept one broad hand firmly over her waist as she stepped down, making sure her heels didn’t slip on the smooth stone step.

Behind them, Chloe slid out of the car, slouching her shoulders as much as humanly possible.

"Stand up straight," Grayson snapped softly without even turning his head, keeping his arm locked securely around Mailah’s waist. "You represent the Ashford house tonight. Do not walk like a dragged sack of flour."

"I’m trying not to fall over!" Chloe whispered back angrily, stomping her feet in her flat shoes.

They walked through the heavy glass doors into the main ballroom. Classical violin music floated gently through the air, and waiters in white gloves carried silver trays of champagne glasses through the crowded room.

Grayson calmly took a glass of sweet sparkling juice from a passing waiter and handed it to Mailah.

"Is your dress comfortable, my love?" Grayson asked Mailah softly, his tone dripping with velvety care. "Are your feet feeling okay in those shoes? Should I command the hotel staff to bring you a softer chair?"

Mailah blinked, looking around at the grand room filled with rich humans staring at them. "Grayson, I am completely fine. You don’t need to make a scene."

"Making sure you are comfortable is my highest priority," Grayson declared proudly, taking a slow sip of his own drink.

Suddenly, a loud, pompous voice boomed from behind them.

"Well, well, well! If it isn’t Lord Grayson Ashford!"

Grayson didn’t even turn his body to face the speaker. He kept one broad shoulder turned toward Mailah, shielding her comfortably from the crowd.

Walking toward them was Count Ulrich—a high-ranking dark noble in the realm who had recently come to the human world pretending to be a wealthy art collector. He was a sleek, arrogant man with cold grey eyes, wearing a dark velvet suit. Count Ulrich had been one of the dark nobles who once tried to buy Chloe from her abusive father, and he was currently seeking to rebuild his influence in the human realm.

Count Ulrich stopped a few feet away, a sneering, mock smile on his face.

"I heard rumors that you abandoned your royal duties to play house with a human," Count Ulrich sneered, his cold eyes sliding over to Mailah with clear condescension. "And you brought your little human wife. How quaint. A powerful demon reduced to escorting fragile mortals."

Chloe gasped behind them, her face going pale with anger.

Before Count Ulrich could take another breath, Grayson took a single, slow step forward.

The air in the grand ballroom didn’t change visibly, but an invisible, suffocating pressure suddenly slammed onto Count Ulrich’s shoulders like a falling mountain. The bright lights in the crystal chandeliers flickered wildly, and the cheerful chatter of the nearby humans instantly died down as a cold chill swept through the room.

Count Ulrich’s smug smile froze. His pale skin went completely white, and his knees buckled slightly as he gasped for air under the sudden, terrifying weight of Grayson’s dark authority.

"Watch your tongue, Ulrich," Grayson whispered, his deep voice dropping into a register so terrifyingly smooth that it made the blood in Count Ulrich’s veins turn to ice. "You are standing in my city. If you look at my wife with disrespect again, I will rip your dark spirit from your body before the violin song ends."

Count Ulrich swallowed hard, terror flashing in his eyes. He had forgotten just how monstrously powerful the eldest Lord of Ashford was when provoked.

"You... you wouldn’t dare cause a scene here..." Count Ulrich stammered, sweating through his expensive velvet collar.

"Try me," Grayson smirked coldly, his sharp dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, lethal warning.

"Grayson," Mailah said softly.

She reached out, placing her small, warm hand gently against his arm.

The exact second Mailah’s warm fingers touched his suit jacket, the heavy, suffocating pressure in the room vanished into thin air like smoke. The chandelier lights stopped flickering, and the cold chill dissolved.

Grayson’s terrifying, lethal glare melted away in less than a second. He turned back to Mailah, his sharp face instantly softening into a picture of gentle, needy devotion.

"Yes, my queen?" Grayson asked sweetly, as if he hadn’t just threatened to destroy a dark noble two seconds ago.

Mailah gave him a small, clever smile, leaning close to whisper, "My feet are starting to hurt just a tiny bit from standing."

Grayson gasped dramatically, placing a broad hand over his heart in absolute horror. "Your feet? Oh, the utter tragedy! Why are we standing in this miserable room talking to bugs?"

He completely turned his back on the stunned Count Ulrich, who was still trembling and catching his breath against a nearby pillar.

"Come, my love," Grayson said loudly, taking Mailah’s hand with grand, swoon-worthy care. "Sit down on the velvet sofa immediately. I shall order the hotel manager to bring you soft pillows."

Chloe snorted out a loud laugh behind them, glaring at Count Ulrich as she walked past him. "Ha! You got ignored! Serves you right, you creepy old man!"

Grayson led Mailah over to a quiet velvet sofa near the edge of the ballroom. He helped her sit down as if she were made of priceless glass. Then, without a single care for the dozens of wealthy humans watching him, the tall, majestic Lord of Ashford dropped down onto one knee right on the polished floor in front of her.

He gently unclasped the strap of Mailah’s emerald high heel, slipping the shoe off her foot and resting her small foot on his knee. He began to rub her soft arch with his large, warm thumb.