Grayson stared at the blue light of his phone screen, his fingers hovering over the glass. He glanced down at Mailah, who was tucked peacefully into his chest. Her small hand rested over his heart, her quiet breathing warm against his skin.
Careful not to wake her by even a single breath, Grayson typed back with one hand:
Do not call. Do not come to the house. Meet me at the private tea house on the east quay at dawn. Bring the folder.
Jasper's reply came three seconds later: Yes, My Lord! I will be there!
Grayson set the phone back down on the wooden nightstand with absolute silence. He looked down at Mailah again, his sharp features softening into a helpless, swoon-worthy smile.
To an ancient demon prince who had ruled over shadows for hundreds of years, slipping out of a warm bed should have been simple. But Mailah was wrapped around him like a sweet vine. If he shifted even an inch, her soft brow pulled together, and she made a tiny, sleepy hum that nearly broke his heart.
