26. Lucifer
26
LUCIFER
“ D on’t move,” I warn, looking around the room at the three men who are tied up. I love this part. They’re not sure if they’re going to live or die, their fear electrifying my mania.
Spoiler alert: they’re going to die.
I pull my ringing phone out of my pocket. I answer it, clicking the speakerphone button, letting my eyes shift to their black orbs before returning to my normal colour just to scare the little cunts in front of me. They’re too afraid to even breathe incorrectly now.
Good.
“Lucifer Graves,” I say casually, my eyes locking on one of the men as he shifts into his hedgehog form and shrinks down, managing to slip out of his ties.
I roll my eyes. Of course, there’s always one who thinks he can escape.
Fucking bastard.
I growl, lifting my crossbow, and fire a shot. The little hedgehog shifter lets out a weird squeal, pathetic, really. I almost laugh, but instead, I pull the trigger again, just for good measure. The first arrow goes right through his eye, and the second lands in his stomach.
He’s already dead, but I never let them go without extra pain—what’s the harm in a little extra bloodshed? It’ll be good to let the other two see what will happen to them the moment I decide that their torture is worth being ended.
Dickheads.
“What the fuck was that?” Atticus Phoenix roars down the line, and I roll my eyes. He’s so dramatic.
Always with the yelling, always with self-righteousness. He could’ve just asked nicely, and maybe I’d have told him the truth.
The asshole has rung and interrupted my night, so maybe rather than judging my extracurriculars, he could just tell me what he wanted.
“Run,” one of the foxes screams to the other, and I grin. Perfect .
I fire a couple of shots around the room as they both shift into their fox forms.
They’re faster as foxes, sure, but where the fuck are they going to go when I’ve locked the room down?
I hear a loud yowl that has Atticus swearing at me, but I just grin, slowly stalking over to the trap in the corner that has captured the red fox shifter.
I kneel, just out of reach. The scent of his fear makes me dizzy with exhilaration. I should thank him for that.
“Want to shift back, little foxy?” I say, waggling my brows.
The poor bastard’s eyes widen, pure panic radiating back at me, and I thrive on it. That moment when the last bit of hope crumples is always the most beautiful.
“Lucifer, this isn’t a joke. Whatever you’re doing, stop it,” Atticus warns, a low growl backing up his words as his lion comes out to play.
“Oh, Atty, if you can’t be quiet whilst I’m busy, then clearly, we shouldn’t be talking.” I’d hang up, but my phone is across the room.
“I needed a favour, but I don’t think it’ll work out.”
I pause as the fox shifts back into his human form, screaming as he tries to free himself from the trap. I don’t bother looking away when I fire another arrow straight through his throat. His screams cut off instantly. Good.
I don’t like screamers in the torture room.
The other fox is hiding, and I take him out far faster than I wanted. It’s a shame, really.
Atticus might’ve ruined my revenge, but it’s not often the king comes calling, so I’m very curious as to what I could offer him.
But more importantly, what will I get out of it in return?
“What favour?”
“Oh, so now you’re interested?” the alpha sounds smug, and it grates at me.
“You clearly want something from me, and I don’t have much interest in playing your games to find out what it is,” I warn.
“I need you to come and stay at the pride for a little while as personal security for one of my new mythical shifters. She’s just transferred from the compound.”
“No.” I move over to where my phone is, preparing to hang up on him.
“Well, I was going to barter for it, but you’ve pissed me off,” Atticus says. “So, if you don’t come to the pride and at least meet with her, then I’ll be telling Adrian where you are, what happened to you, and how long you were there.”
I sneer. Of course, he goes there—Atticus loves using the family against me. As if I care.
“Tell him. I don’t give a fuck if he knows.”
“I’ll also have to share what you’ve been doing to his people…”
“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t know that’s me.”
Atticus laughs along the line, the sound quite strange considering it’s a human laugh mixed with a growl from his lion. I’m not laughing.
“Playing hard today,” Atticus says. “Fine. I’ll just mention to Adrian how she wanted you, but you were too scared of him to come. It sounds like it’s the truth.”
I freeze, my jaw locking as I glare at my phone. Fucking prick.
I have no doubt that the alpha lion would do that, but that’s not anywhere near the truth.
Me? Scared of Adrian ? Ha. Pathetic.
“Why me?” I mutter, my words as sulky as my posture.
“I would’ve told you, but if you want to find out, you’ll make your way to my place. Tomorrow.”
I groan, looking down at my watch. It’s ten pm, and I have things to be done tomorrow.
Plans that don’t include babysitting some spoiled princess from the compound who doesn’t understand the word no.
“Time?”
“As soon as you can get there.”
He clicks off the phone, and I let out a hiss. Fucking typical.
He ruined my revenge, making me speed it up after it took me a whole fucking week to track these cunts down.
They’re the reason I got tangled up with the king so bloody intimately, with their little hunter situation. Fucking assholes.
And then he had the audacity to threaten me as if I’m some weak little errand boy at his beck and call.
It’s pissed me off, and now he’s demanding I come and play babysitter.
He might be an alpha, but he’s not my alpha, and I have no intention of making that the case, even if he wants me in his pride for a little while.
I’ve been packless since I left my home at sixteen, and I’ve had a very good life for the last twelve years. I get to cause the chaos I want, I get to live by my own moral code, and nobody is going to do anything about it because my last name is Graves, and my entire family refuses to acknowledge the family failure.
It’s a good position to be in.
“ L uc.” Malachi’s eyes narrow on me as he shifts his weight to block his front door.
I grin at the obvious irritation. He always hates me showing up unannounced. Too bad for him I was invited this time.
I could easily shift and just flutter on inside his house, breezing past the insignificant little tiger that he is. But where’s the fun in that?
I’m in no rush to get to Atticus. After his threats last night, I slowly made my way up the country, taking only one small detour.
Only three people were injured. Nobody died.
Well, not at that location anyway.
I may have also technically helped the man that the Tribunal enforcers were coming to capture, escape… but I’ve got plausible deniability.
If anyone ever dared to ask me.
“Malachi,” I drawl out the syllables of his name, delight pouring through me as his eyes flash amber. His tiger doesn’t like me, not that I blame him.
I am pretty threatening.
“What are you doing here?” The tiger crosses his arms, his bulky figure acting as a very good door block. It’s practically his only use, to be honest.
He’s not very intimidating.
“Here to see a lion about a mythical,” I say, waggling my brows.
He relaxes slightly, his arms dropping. “Maeve.”
The name slips past his lips, and something twists in my chest. I ignore it.
“That’s her name?” I grin, testing the word out on my tongue. It’s… pretty.
Too bad she’s probably a complete bore.
I’ve heard she’s up my uncle’s ass, constantly whining to get her own way.
The enforcers I met wouldn’t reveal much about this new mythical this morning, but they did tell me that Adrian has her under his protection.
That’s not the kind of girl I want to be around.
“That’s her name,” Malachi confirms, opening his door wider in an invitation to enter. “Want a bit of advice?”
I shrug, bored now. But I nod anyway, knowing that whatever he offers is probably going to be useless.
“Sure. Enlighten me.”
Malachi laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Maeve’s had a rough life?—”
I snort before he can finish. Oh, I’m sure she has. The pretty little princess who is doted on by my uncle in the compound? Cry me a river.
“Haven’t we all?”
Malachi rolls his eyes. “I’m not on about you and your rebellion from privilege. She’s got actual struggles.”
I raise a brow, feigning interest. But my imp gnaws at me. Struggles?
She’s a fucking princess. What does she know about struggling?
“Isn’t she just another rich girl wanting to flee the nest?” I hold in my smirk, loving that I can rile this bastard up.
He growls low in his throat. Good, I like it when people snap. It shows me where their weaknesses are.
“No. Maeve is… beautifully damaged. She was hurt, badly, and hasn’t fully recovered from it. Don’t be a dick to her or you’ll be facing more than just a telling off.”
I burst into laughter. The sound feels foreign. My stomach genuinely aches with how much that amused me.
Beautifully damaged? Christ, I’ve heard it all.
“Oh, fuck off, you absolute wanker.”
“What’s your dick got to do with her?” And why does it unsettle me so much to know he cares about Maeve.
Why should I care about his interest in her? I don’t.
I don’t give a fuck about this pampered princess.
My imp snorts, but I ignore the little demon cunt.
Malachi narrows his eyes, and there’s a coldness to his tone. “No idea what you’re implying.”
“Don’t play stupid. You give zero fucks about anyone outside your house. Why do you care about this girl?” I cross my arms, still not entering the Phoenix threshold, wanting this solved before I go inside.
I might’ve rejected my upbringing, but it’s hard to throw away an entire childhood of etiquette lessons.
You don’t cause shit to your host inside his house.
Sure, it probably should equate to his property , but I’m not that technical. I’ll stay on the doorstep, and that’s good enough.
“My mate is her friend.”
I snort. Of course. This isn’t about Maeve at all—it’s about keeping his mate happy.
“So, you’re begging me to be nice to the rich princess so that your mate will still fuck you?”
“Do not talk about my mate like that,” Malachi warns. I drop my snark.
Mates are sacred, even to me, and I never intended for my words to sound like I was disrespecting his.
Even I’m not that much of an asshole.
“Fair enough,” I reply, nodding in respect.
Malachi grins at me, and I know the posturing is done now. “But, seriously, Maeve can be a bit of a bitch… so tell her you hate Adrian, and then never touch her. You’ll be golden.”
“Never touch her.” I roll my eyes, heading into the house. “Trust me. Rich princesses are not my type.”
The words feel like a lie the moment they leave my mouth.
“Famous last words,” the cocky tiger taunts as he motions for me to go up the stairs.
I do, making my way to Atticus’s home office. I give him a half-hearted wave as I ascend, my mind racing.
Beautifully damaged, huh?
I come to a stop as I see Malachi’s feisty mate waiting for me in the corridor.
I can hear the extra heart beats, but there’s not much of a bump on her tiny frame. She’s not too far along, then.
“Lucifer.” There’s a pointedness to her words, and whilst I have little care about what she says, I’m not stupid enough to just ignore her.
She’s the king’s mate, and he’s already summoned me here against my will. I’ve got no choice but to engage with her, politely , or the bastard will follow through on his threats just out of spite.
I grin. “Hello, darling.”
“Don’t call her that,” I hear shouted from downstairs from the grumpy tiger.
I smirk, and Nora’s eyes narrow. “I hear congratulations are in order, beautiful lady.”
“Don’t taunt him,” she says, but I can see her amusement.
Her dark hair is tied up on top of her head in a messy way, but there’s a glow in her eyes that she didn’t have the day I met her.
She seems happier.
Makes sense, since I met her after her mates rescued me from a compound full of hunters, and one of her mates was gravely injured.
She wasn’t the nicest that day.
Which, of course, made me like her all the more.
“Not even a little?”
She shakes her head, grinning back at me, before a serious expression fills her face. “Maeve is special to me.”
“I’m sure she is.”
Her eyes narrow. “Can you be serious, please?”
“I am always serious,” I reply, affronted. “But?—”
“She needs help.” Nora sniffles, and god, am I worried for my life right now. Is she seriously crying in front of me? “She’s had a hard time, and she needs someone to help her. To keep her safe. She needs you .”
I sigh. “Little wolf, I’m telling you?—”
“That’s my nickname for her!” I hear Malachi shout, and Nora laughs loudly.
It’s a cute sound. Tinkling, almost.
But fuck that shit.
“Come on, beautiful little wolf, let’s not ruin such a good friendship with begs for a pretty little damaged princess.”
“Damaged people are often the most dangerous.” She steps closer to me, her eyes flashing amber as she tilts her head back to look up at me. “And sometimes… stupid, arrogant men are the most damaged of all.”
“Shouldn’t that make me dangerous by your logic?” Why the fuck does this tiny little figure think she can intimidate me?
And why the fuck is it sort of working?
Nora grins. “A man’s weakness is always his ego. A woman’s? Well… I suppose you’ll have to meet Maeve and find out.”
She turns around and heads to one of the rooms, closing the door behind her with a soft thud.
I can’t tell if that was a warning, a threat, or a promise. But, weirdly enough, it lights a fire in me.
I continue down to Atticus’s office and let myself in. It’s not the first time I’ve been to his home office, and despite the threats to get me here, I know I’m only allowed inside his home because he trusts me.
There’s not many who have the trust of a very powerful alpha lion, so I’m glad I do.
Not that I’ve given him much reason to trust me.
He’s sitting at his desk, typing on his phone, and doesn’t even bother to look up as I enter. The smug bastard doesn’t need to.
He’s got a smirk on his face, so it’s clearly not work.
“Hi.” I go to pour myself a drink and sit on the large sofa, kicking my feet up onto his coffee table. His expensive scotch is one of the perks of visiting the billionaire.
He waits until he’s finished his message before turning to me. “It took you long enough.”
“Took me long enough?” I scoff, and when he just arches a brow, I roll my eyes.
Fucking billionaire bastard. It would be easy for him to hop on his private plane and jet around.
Some of us are refusing to touch our inheritance out of spite and do not spend as frivolously.
I sip at the very expensive scotch and shrug at him. It’s smooth but not worth selling out for.
“What can I say? It’s hard work beating up my uncle’s men all day.”
Atticus laughs and shakes his head. “You should know that Maeve is the one that requested you specifically.”
“Why is that?” I ask, sneering at him. Great. Another reason to dislike this princess. “Told her stories about me?”
He doesn’t rise to the bait, finding himself above that. “She’s under Adrian’s thumb and desperately wants out.”
I sit forward and narrow my eyes. That’s… actually interesting.
A weakness of Adrian’s who wants away from him? I like the sound of that.
“How likely is it that she’ll get out?”
“Your uncle loves her and is her legal guardian. He just wants the best for her, even if he’s going about it the complete wrong way.”
I groan, hating that I’m even slightly involved in this bullshit. It’s like a shitty soap opera, except I can’t just change the channel.
I want nothing to do with my uncle or my toxic family.
It’s that simple.
“Where is the princess, then?”
“Some ground rules before I bring her in.”
Atticus leans back in his seat, the move so fucking annoying as it shows he has all the power here. He loves this game, the whole I’m-in-charge-here-and-you’ll-play-by-my-rules act.
“If you agree, she’s yours to care for fully. You’ll work with me to get her a full protection detail organised, but you take the point.”
“Is that really needed?” I ask. It sounds like a lot of effort for one girl. “She’s one pampered princess. Sure, Adrian sees some worth. But is she really that important?”
Atticus, once again, keeps his face passive, his tone cool. Always so in control.
It makes me want to wreck something just out of spite.
“She’s a chromius and has yet to find her mates and shift into any form. She’s rare, powerful, and has already been attacked once on the move here, and she’s got a stalker who managed to kill somebody on the compound without raising the alarm to anyone .”
Holy fucking shit.
She’s got no form to protect herself and is clearly in a bit of hot water. That amount of chaos is like crack to me.
Then again, nobody wants the street crack that was dosed with Adrian Graves. That’s just a recipe for death.
Maybe not mine. But it probably won’t be his, either.
“Why do you need me?” I don’t understand it. “Adrian and I have no love lost between us.”
“That is why she wants you.”
“Well, fuck.” I rub my face, giving a big sigh. Why does shit like this always find me? “How big does her team need to be?”
“As big as you can get it.”
“And why haven’t you done it yet?” I smirk, unable to resist the jab. “You know, besides the obvious.”
The obvious being that his hunter threats took priority, and he was a little beat up from the weak little humans. But that’s been over with for a week now, and if I managed to get my revenge in that time, he should’ve managed to heal.
“Maeve has a tendency to fire anyone I hire, and she’s had a rough go of it.”
I laugh. That’s the kind of behaviour I can get behind. “Bested by a pretty and pampered princess.”
“Oh, trust me,” Atticus says dryly. “Maeve’s more than just her looks.”
I’ll believe it when I see it.
The door opens, and Malibu Barbie herself steps in, not bothering to knock or announce her presence.
Bright blonde hair neatly tied into a high ponytail, a very short and thin pink dress that clings to her golden skin. Her heels are taller than my dick, and that’s impressive.
She’s something straight out of a dream. Or a nightmare, depending on how you look at it.
Although, even without the heels, she’s tall enough—a few inches shorter than me. She’s a little on the thin side, but so very fucking hot.
She calls to me like the siren calls to the sea.
Atticus has a knowing look on his face as he rises to his feet. “Maeve, meet Lucifer Graves.”
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
I am so fucking fucked.
I rise to my feet and nod my head, offering her my hand to shake. I’m not sure why, I don’t expect her to take it.
“Haven’t you got to the part where I don’t touch?” Maeve asks, ignoring my hand in favour of narrowing her eyes at Atticus.
Her voice is hypnotic. Soft, feminine, but with an edge of bitchiness. It’s like she’s daring me to cross a line.
I fucking love her.
Or at least, I did until her words caught up to me.
“Don’t touch what? Disowned princes? Pretty boys? Men? ” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her, rising to my full height, baiting her to see if she backs down.
She doesn’t cower back. Good.
She sneers at me, and it somehow only makes her more beautiful. She’s vicious. I fucking adore it.
There’s a darkness inside of her, one that calls to my own.
Like recognises like, after all.
“You’re far too similar to your cousin, Lucifer, and trust me that is not a compliment. I asked for you because I thought you were better than the pick-me boy,” she says. Her words are ice, but there’s fire underneath. “It seems I was wrong.”
The pick-me boy?
Julian.
Fuck me, Hadrian will love that.
She turns around, ready to leave the room, and I turn to Atticus and blurt out the hastiest decision I have ever made in my entire life.
“I’m in.”
It’s one I doubt I’ll regret.
I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s the way she looks at me like I’m nothing or maybe I’m just addicted to the chaos.
Either way, I’m in.
“You’re in?” they both echo, one incredulous and one angry.
“I’m in. You said it was a full year contract, right?” I ask, dismissing Maeve completely. The pretty princess does not like that. “I’ll sign the dotted line right now.”
“Wait, no—” Maeve protests, spinning around on her heels.
Atticus’s eyes dart between us both, and if I didn’t know him as well as I do, I’d miss the amusement in his eyes. He’s enjoying this.
Sadistic fuck.
“The contract is dependent on Maeve’s agreement, Lucifer.”
“And Maeve most certainly does not agree.” She moves as if to cross her arms before shivering and letting them hang by her side.
“Are you cold?” I ask, inching closer. I pull my jacket off and offer it to her. She sneers, and shakes her head. “What, my clothes aren’t good enough to touch your body?”
“I mean, not only are they covered in the blood of numerous people, I told you, I do not touch .”
Huh, maybe that was why Malachi was so pissed off when I arrived. I never even noticed.
“That’s an item of clothing, pretty princess,” I say. “No touching needed.”
She rolls her eyes as if I’m an idiot. I’m sure there’s arguments to be made that I am.
“I don’t touch anything ,” she says.
I frown. “And why does the pretty princess decide to not touch anything ?”
Is she serious here? What sort of pampered asshole is she? No fucking wonder Adrian loves her. She’s got his snobby attitude and holier-than-thou glare.
I bet he fucking creamed himself the first time she looked at one of the common shifters and refused to shake their hands.
She glares at me, before turning a look to Atticus. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Tell me what?” I ask.
My imp snarls, angry at me for upsetting Maeve. As if I’m the reason this woman is unhinged.
I don’t care if he likes her darkness.
I don’t.
She’s not dark. She’s a bitch. There’s a difference.
She heaves a sigh when Atticus shakes his head. She’s acting as if this entire conversation is beneath her, as if she’s so much better than the rest of us.
As if I wasn’t called here because of her being a pain in Atticus’s fucking ass.
She meets my eyes, and in such a calm tone of voice, says, “When I was seventeen years old, I was raped by my stepfather and his entire inner circle. I don’t do touch because the last time someone touched me without permission, it was to repeatedly violate me.”
I gulp, unable to look away from her hypnotising blue eyes.
She’s serious. This is more than just some princess attitude, she’s not overly spoiled or pampered. She was violated .
Maeve is defensive, even without trying to be that way. She’s doing her best to seem confident, as if that isn’t the most traumatic thing I’ve ever heard.
Fuck me. My imp grins, his exhilaration flooding the bond we share as he makes his decision.
Maeve is ours—our soulmate.
Well, fuck.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to touch after that, either,” I say, putting my jacket back on. She blinks once as if she’s shocked I didn’t press or say more.
My imp is raising hell across our bond, murderous fury flooding through my veins. But I won’t make her suffer that.
My imp and I function best when we’re working in the shadows. So I’ll figure out who and what hurt her, add their names to a list, and cross them off one by one.
And only then will my princess be free from them.
I turn to Atticus. “I want it written into the contract that anyone who attempts to violate her without consent is mine to deal with however I see fit.”
As vague as possible, preferably, so I can get my kicks off whilst stuck here in this pride.
“No, that will not be happening,” Atticus says, his lips twitching in amusement.
“I’ll sign that contract,” Maeve says, still not looking away from me. There’s some curiosity in her scent, but she’s also very wary. Guarded.
It makes sense.
I wish I could read her mind and know what’s going on inside her. I want to know how she feels about this. About me. About our bond.
I want to know her.
But I get the feeling it’s going to be a long road, and I’m going to need to put in the work. She’s not going to make this easy—even if she wanted to, she probably can’t .
But I like a challenge.
Good thing we’re going to be tied together for the next year.
“Okay, tell me everything I need to know,” I say, downing my glass. Maeve lets out a sigh but moves to sit at Atticus’s desk.
Atticus recounts the tale of the pretty chromius shifter who is trapped under Adrian Graves’s thumb. Despite not saying it directly, it’s obvious that Atticus is not impressed with my uncle’s treatment of my mate.
Yeah, that makes two of us.
Adrian is lucky I’m banished from the compound or I’d sneak in there and slit his throat.
My mate has a stalker, some obsessed psychopath who is murdering people in her name, and even decided to threaten my cousin. Well, luckily for her, she’s got another psychotic man in her life—but I’m on her side, and I’m far more deadly.
She’s fated to be Julian’s mate, although Maeve cut in, reassuring me that he’s a liar who is only pretending in order to benefit my manipulative uncle.
Sadly for her, she’s wrong.
Not only would Adrian not do that, as low and pathetic as he is, Julian would never go along with it.
He’s weak, pathetic, really. Julian has let his parents warm him and twist him into being the little puppet that obeys whatever the family can need. He laps up all the shit they spew, rather than using his own brain to see how dysfunctional they really are.
He and Tarun are the same in that aspect and are both as worthless as the other.
Hadrian, on the other hand, is not terrible , but he’s so desperate for redemption that he’s too scared to actually do anything of worth. He’s trying to make up for the fact that he’s a dark pegasus, as if it’s the worst sin he could ever commit.
Fool.
What they’re all missing is how fucked up our family is and how we don’t need to live in their lies. We can move on and be better.
“Don’t you worry, princess,” I say, beaming at Maeve’s snarl. It’s almost too easy to get under her skin. “We’re going to make such a good team.”
Now… it’s time for my fun. I need to call Adrian to gloat, and then Julian, well, also to gloat.
Then I’ll give Hades a call, just to invite him along for the ride.
He’s a dick, but it’ll get under his brother’s skin, and that’s something I’m extremely interested in doing.
Especially since Julian’s stuck at the compound, whilst me and my cousin get to play with his mate.
It’s a good day to be a Graves.