Chapter 12
Lucifer
Everything is slowly starting to make sense.
This is why Yvonne decided to show me that dream over, and over again.
This is why she wanted me to suffer until she found a way to kill me.
It wasn’t enough for her that she indirectly caused one of the worst things to have ever happened to me, she needed me to relive the pain, to never stop hating myself.
Until I drowned in regret.
Yvonne killing Martha makes so much fucking sense.
She couldn’t have known all the details of how Martha died otherwise.
Even if she’s the greatest witch in the world, she couldn’t have created a dream so realistic without being there.
That means that she was there, watching through the fucking window, while I drained my wife of blood.
I’m frozen in place. Watching the front door. Waiting for Yvonne to reappear.
This whole situation is the biggest slap in the face, the kind that you remember forever.
The worst part of it all? Yvonne was right.
I did something despicable, something out of fear, and it cost her everyone she ever cared about. Martha might’ve been innocent, but I never was. And no matter how much I want to blame Yvonne, I can’t because her fury is justified.
Just like I went on a vengeful, rage-filled spree after Martha’s death, so did Yvonne. Although she didn’t kill anyone, she was waiting, patiently, until an opportunity to end me presented herself.
I’m too fucking torn.
On one hand, she killed the only woman I have ever loved. Vampires cannot procreate, but Martha wanted us to take in a couple of children and raise them as our own. We had a family planned, a future where I was going to turn her and we were going to live together, forever.
On the other hand, if Yvonne hadn’t killed her, she would’ve killed someone. Perhaps Ophelia, or any other of my siblings. As selfish as it seems, it’s better that things turned out this way.
I know for a fact that Martha’s resting peacefully, and that she’s happy. Around two years after I killed her, I found a witch that could speak to the dead. She told me that Martha was doing alright, and that she’s in a much better place. That’s what has kept me alive all this time.
Now, I’m tied to the woman that killed my wife, and she did so without an ounce of remorse.
Despite that, the anger I’m feeling slowly begins to fade.
The love I have for Martha will forever be there, lingering inside of my heart. A reminder that a human deemed me worthy of love, that she saw right past the monstrosity that I represent, and chose me anyway.
But the connection between Yvonne and me is too powerful. Like two magnets, we’re constantly being pulled to one another. The longer this goes on, the less time I want to be apart from her.
Fuck, this is ridiculous.
I was certain I’d be hating her for the rest of my life, and that I’d bring the ending of hers.
“Goodness gracious,” I mumble, looking out the window. It’s getting dark outside, and she’s been gone since our argument transpired and that was a few hours ago. Where did she go? Does she have a boyfriend, a husband, someone I need to get rid of?
Despite all these questions, I can’t help that the one I deem most important is… Is she fucking safe?
Everything inside of this tiny cottage smells of her. I’ve been here for such a short amount of time, but it’s enough for her scent to have gotten under my skin. It’s something that makes this stone heart of mine, wish it could beat again.
The weather outside is getting rougher. The pitter-patter of the rain against the window is now mixed with harsh wind, and I worry that it’s going to turn into a storm.
That thought makes me think I could track Yvonne’s scent, to make sure she is safe.
Knowing her, she wouldn’t stick around in one place for too long, and what if she comes home when I am out looking for her?
After what seems to be an eternity, the door opens, and my eyes immediately snap toward the entrance.
Yvonne enters, her cloak soaked, the tips of her hair dripping from the rain.
She looks at me and pauses, still at the entrance.
She swallows, her eyes searching mine. She’s looking for a reaction to her previous admission, something that would indicate whether she has to prepare for a fight or not.
“Lucifer,” she breathes out, taking the cloak off, tossing it to the nearby chair.
She walks over to the fireplace, tossing a couple of logs into it, then snapping her fingers.
In an instant, the wood catches on fire, the soft glow making her face look more vulnerable.
“I’m not going to apologize for what I said or did. ”
Ah, so she’s decided I’m currently not a threat.
She turns to look at me, and I step forward.
Everything in me is screaming to get closer to her, the pull is irresistible. She smells of rain too and it’s such a distinctive smell on her, mixed with that which is uniquely her, and my heart almost starts beating again.
“Then, what are you going to do?”
Yvonne sucks in a sharp breath, her hands clenching and unclenching by her side. “I’m not sure. I don’t regret what I did, both in killing her and putting you to sleep. In my eyes, you deserved it, and far worse. However, there are no solutions to this fucking connection between us.”
I quirk a brow. “Have you decided to accept it?”
Yvonne scoffs. “Absolutely not. But, I’m not going to waste my time looking for a solution that doesn’t exists, either. So, leave. Leave and never come back.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she lifts her chin up, looking at me, almost daring me to challenge her. “Leave, and we’ll never see each other again. Far from the eyes, far from the heart.”
My brows narrow. “No.”
She blinks. “What do you mean, no?”
“Do you need me to repeat myself?” I take another step toward her, closing the gap. There’s only an inch of distance between us, and I hear her breath hitch. “I’m not leaving, Yvonne.”
“Fine, then,” she scoffs. “I’ll leave.”
As she tries to walk past me, something inside of me snaps. I grab her wrist, not too hard to hurt her, just enough to keep her standing where she is. She freezes, slowly looking at me over her shoulder.
“You aren’t leaving, either,” I say calmly, my voice low. “I won’t let you.”
“That’d be kidnapping.”
“Do I look like I give a shit?” I roll my eyes at her theatrics and yank her back by her wrist. Her back slams into my chest, and the sight of her body shivering sends shocks down my body.
I lean in, whispering in her ear. “I’m not letting you go, Yvonne.
You can scream, kick, or try your spells on me, but you will never escape me. ”
She swallows, eyes glued straight ahead. “This is a terrible fucking idea, Lucifer.”
“Oh, I know.”
“I killed your wife,” she says.
“I’m aware.”
“I cursed you.”
“Yes, you did,” I release her wrist, only to wrap my arms around her torso from behind.
“There’s no logical reason for this, Lucifer. It’s not smart, and one of us will end up dead.”
“Then, we die together, Little Lamb.”