Becoming Lailah: Married to my Twin Sister's Billionaire Husband-Chapter 237: The Tea 1

OUTSIDE, the sleek black car sat idling.

Lucson stood by the door, tapping his foot with royal impatience. Mason was already inside, and Carson was leaning against the wheel, tossing an apple in the air.

Seryn stood on the porch, looking at the car with a look of pure, exaggerated dread.

"Oh, Lucson," she sighed, her voice loud enough to carry. "Are we really leaving now? In this light? My human skin is so sensitive to the morning chill. I feel quite... faint."

"Get in the car, Seryn," Lucson said, his voice flat. "You’ve caused enough trouble for one morning."

Seryn leaned against a pillar, fluttering her eyelashes. "It’s just that... I had such a lovely idea. Since I’m essentially a guest of the Ashfords now, and since Grayson’s estate is so much better equipped for ’mortal’ needs than the Manor’s drafty towers... shouldn’t we have one last meal together? A truce dinner?"

Mason poked his head out of the carriage window. "A truce dinner? With you? I’d rather eat a bowl of rusted nails."

"I was going to prepare a farewell feast right here. I was going to make Heart-loin," she said casually, buffing her nails on her robe. "And those Brimstone-infused Honey-pears that Carson used to risk a public execution to steal from my father’s royal gardens. Of course, since I’m human now, I’ve discovered that certain mortal spices, like ghost pepper and raw iron, can make the flavors... mimic the burn of home perfectly."

Carson stopped tossing his apple. His stomach let out a traitorous growl that echoed in the quiet morning. "Honey-pears? Heart-loin? With the sea salt crust?"

"The very ones," Seryn purred. She looked at Lucson, her expression shifting to something more serious. "Besides, Lucson, you said yourself you haven’t reached Ysoria. If we stay here for a few more hours, it gives you more time to use Grayson’s library. It’s far more extensive regarding ancient banishment laws than the Manor’s collection. Wouldn’t it be better to have the answers before we move me to a permanent cell?"

Lucson hesitated. He hated to admit she was right, but the mystery of why the spell had failed was eating him alive. He looked at the estate, then back at Seryn. He knew she was up to something—it was written in the slight, sharp curve of her smile—but the logic was sound.

"Fine," Lucson grunted. "We stay until sunset. But you stay in the kitchen. If I see you near the library or the guest wings without an escort, the deal is off."

Seryn clapped her hands together like a delighted child. "Wonderful! I’ll get started. Carson, come along, you can be my taste-tester. I need to make sure the salt-to-sugar ratio is perfect for a mortal palate."

Carson didn’t need to be asked twice. He followed her back inside, leaving a suspicious Mason and a brooding Lucson behind.

Inside the house, the atmosphere shifted. The brothers retreated to the library, and Seryn disappeared into the kitchen with Carson. This left the sprawling hallways and the sun-drenched gardens to Grayson and Mailah.

Grayson found Mailah in the sunroom, where the glass walls were covered in climbing vines and a variety of flowers. She was staring at a lily that seemed to pulse with a soft blue light.

"They’re staying," he said, coming up behind her. He didn’t keep his distance this time. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

Mailah leaned her head back against his shoulder, closing her eyes. He was probably in a great mood to be intimate today, so she might as well enjoy it. "How did she do it?"

"She promised Carson food and Lucson knowledge," Grayson muttered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "She’s a master of finding the crack in the armor."

"I don’t like it, Grayson. It feels like she’s setting a stage."

"She is," Grayson agreed. He turned her around in his arms, his expression intense. "But she’s forgotten one thing. I don’t care about her stage anymore. I only care about this."

He kissed her then. It was slow, deliberate, and full of a quiet passion that made Mailah’s head spin. His hands moved to her hair, his fingers tangling deeply in the strands as he pulled her closer, his touch possessive.

When he finally pulled back, he didn’t go far. His breathing was ragged. "Ever since I kissed you last night, this human body of mine has been driving me insane. I can’t stop thinking about the taste of your lips. I can’t focus on the library or my brothers because all I can feel is the lack of your warmth. It’s like a fever I don’t want to break," he whispered, his voice rough and stripped of his usual royal pride.

He trailed his fingers down her neck, his touch leaving a path of fire. "I can’t get enough of you. It’s becoming a problem."

It was a moment of pure, "swoon-worthy" magic, the kind that made the rest of the world—and the vengeful princess in the kitchen—feel like a distant, fading memory. But even as they stood there, lost in each other, a soft, melodic humming drifted from the hallway.

Seryn walked past the open sunroom door, carrying a tray of colored spices. She didn’t stop, but she did glance in, her eyes lingering on their locked bodies for a second too long. She didn’t look angry; she looked like a hunter who had just confirmed exactly where the heart was located.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, the dining hall had been transformed. Seryn had managed to find fine linens and candles that smelled of spiced oranges. The table was laden with dishes that looked—and smelled—incredible.

"Welcome, welcome!" Seryn announced, wearing a chic apron over her silk robe. She looked every bit the perfect hostess, which made the brothers even more uneasy.

Lucson sat at the head, his eyes scanning every dish for signs of poison. Mason and Carson took their usual spots, and Grayson led Mailah to her seat.

"Before we start the main course," Seryn said, her voice like honey, "I prepared something special for Mailah. A traditional human herbal tea. It’s meant to settle the heart and... help the truth come to the surface."

She placed a delicate porcelain cup in front of Mailah. The liquid inside was a pale, shimmering gold. It smelled of jasmine and something sharper, like mountain air.

Mailah reached for the cup, her fingers trembling. She felt Seryn’s eyes on her, heavy and expectant. But before her lips could touch the rim, a hand shot out and gripped her wrist.

"I’ll have it," Grayson said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble.

Seryn’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Oh, Gray. Don’t be so dramatic. It’s a gift for the girl."

"If it’s safe for her, it’s safe for me," Grayson countered. He didn’t look at Seryn. He took the cup from Mailah’s hand and drained the entire thing in one long swallow.

For a moment, the room was silent. Grayson set the cup down with a sharp clack. He blinked, his eyes suddenly clouding over before turning a bright, piercing silver. He swayed slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the table so hard the wood groaned.

"Grayson?" Mailah whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you okay?"

Grayson looked at her, and the change was terrifying. The guarded, icy wall he usually kept around his emotions had vanished. In its place was a raw, burning hunger.

"I feel... strange," Grayson muttered. He turned his head toward Lucson. "Lucson, I’ve always hated that tie. It makes you look like a funeral director."

Carson let out a bark of laughter, spraying his wine. "Oh, this is brilliant! She spiked it with truth serum, and the big brother took the hit!"

Seryn’s face turned a deep, angry red. "That wasn’t for you, Grayson!"

But Grayson wasn’t listening to her. He turned his full attention back to Mailah. He reached out, his fingers tangling in her hair and pulling her toward him until their faces were inches apart. His breath was warm against her skin, and his gaze was so intense it felt like he was stripping her bare.

"Mailah," he groaned, his voice rough and thick with a passion he usually kept locked away. "I’ve spent every second since last night trying to pretend I’m not losing my mind. But the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about your lips. Every time you breathe near me, I want to pull you into the shadows and never let you go."

The room went dead silent. Mason looked at his plate, suddenly fascinated by his steak. Lucson cleared his throat, looking deeply uncomfortable. Seryn looked like she wanted to scream.

"I wake up in the middle of the night," Grayson continued, his thumb tracing the line of Mailah’s jaw with a feverish heat. "And all I can think about is your human warmth. My body feels cold the second you leave the room. I’m obsessed with the way you look at me, and I’m terrified of how much I want to own every part of you."

He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against hers. "Seryn is a ghost, but you... you are a fire in my blood. I want you, pinned against the wall, reminding me what it feels like to be alive."

"Grayson, stop," Mailah whispered, her face flushing a deep scarlet. "Your brothers..."

"I don’t care about them," Grayson growled, his eyes fixed on her mouth. "I just want to taste you again."

Seryn stood up, her chair flying backward. "This is disgusting! You’re acting like a common beast, Grayson!"

"And you," Grayson said, finally looking at Seryn with a terrifying, honest sneer, "are a desperate child playing with matches."

Lucson stood up, his expression grim. He looked at the clock, then at the mess on the table. "The sun is down. The serum will wear off in an hour, but I’ve heard enough. Seryn, get your things. We are leaving for Ashford Manor. Now."

Seryn didn’t argue. She looked defeated, her plan to humiliate Mailah having backfired into the most romantic and terrifying confession Mailah had ever heard.

As the brothers hurried Seryn toward the door, Mailah stayed in her seat, her heart hammering against her ribs. She felt Grayson’s hand slide down her arm, his fingers interlacing with hers.

The doors slammed shut, leaving them in the flickering candlelight of the ruined hall.

Mailah looked at Grayson. His eyes were still silver, still honest, and still burning with that raw desire. "Do you mean those things? Or is it just the tea?"

Grayson pulled her onto his lap, his hands possessive on her waist. "The tea just stopped me from lying to myself, Mailah. Every word was true."

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over hers. "And now that they’re gone... I’m going to spend the rest of the night showing you exactly how much I meant it."