XIX
Lucky woke with a start when Lucius’ voice rocked the room.
He bolted upright and turned to look at his sibling.
Lucius must have felt his presence, because the older devil turned their head to gaze at him.
Lucius’ eye split into two, each iris spinning wildly like spotlights on the hunt for prey.
Out of the corner of his vision, Lucky saw Charlie standing too damn close to the Lord of the Circle of Anger.
His human was shaking, and the prince could feel fear flood the room.
Lucius’ smile cracked wide. It broke through their perfect face like smashed porcelain, shattering nearly to their earlobe and revealing rows of stone-like teeth as the true devil inside started to chip its way out. Their pupils were blown wide.
“Step back,” Lucky warned.
With a sharp motion, Lucius snatched up Charlie by the neck and whipped him into view.
Charlie looked horrified, the skin round his neck instantly turned red from the heat of the devil’s hand against it. Luke and John started growling and barking. The moment Charlie winced, Lucky lost it.
His own devilish desire took over, and he lost himself to the pull of anger and a need to protect.
In a rush of flames, Lucky raced forward and snatched Charlie away from Lucius, gripping him with otherworldly strength to force Lucius to drop him but enough care so as to not hurt the priest in the process.
Lucius’ severed arm dropped to the floor and shattered.
The prince skidded down the rows of files, sending paper flying into the air and boxes toppling as sparks of fire followed his now cloven feet.
An angered growl echoed as his carnal instincts took over.
Like his sibling, his mouth split into a sickening divide across his face, though he did not grin.
The rows of teeth were bared, saliva and smoke fell from his lips.
His claws gripped onto Charlie tight, and his tail snapped with such force it sounded like a whip cracking.
His horns had elongated. Charlie was frightened, clinging to Lucky like his afterlife depended on it.
“Do not touch what is mine!” Lucky growled, his voice reverberating through the office with a power it hadn’t held in many years.
Lucius slowly turned their head to gaze at him, taking a step forward in the process.
Lucky pressed his hand against Charlie’s back to keep him close.
“Ah,” Lucius said coolly. “I understand.”
“Lucky…” Charlie whimpered.
Lucky exhaled a thick plume of smoke. His monstrous form rose to its true height, towering nearly nine feet tall.
In this shape, his digitigrade legs stood powerfully on thick, golden hooves, bringing him nearly eye-level with Lucius who was still approaching.
The faded heat in his chest returned as his panicked fire began pumping throughout his long, muscular figure.
Charlie turned his head to look, he saw Lucius and flinched.
The other devil lifted their remaining hand. “I merely wanted a taste—”
Overwhelmed by it all, Lucky struck with those sharpened claws, cleaving Lucius’ head down the middle in one motion.
Smoke billowed out of the wound, and those multiplied irises began searching wildly once again as the left side of their skull came untethered and fell to their shoulder.
A wicked laughter echoed throughout the gaping hole but their grinning mouth did not move.
The sound came from deep in the husk. Charlie screamed in terror as Lucky moved back.
“A taste of the divine,” Lucius continued speaking, their mouth still did not move.
Red tendrils slithered out from the broken head and started to pull the limp half up like a craftsman stitching a taxidermy project back together.
Their continuously multiplying eyes rolled with sick ecstasy until the whites had become overwhelmed by bubbles of orange.
“Get out of my office!” Lucky screamed.
“Wait until Father hears—”
Lucky struck again, this time decapitating his sibling. The massive body crumbled with a weighty thud to the marble, spilling out a Hellish and heavy energy. The young Prince of Hell took a few steps forward and set his hoof on Lucius’ chest.
“Don’t you dare,” Lucky threatened.
Those red tendrils slithered across the warm marble and latched onto the mangled head.
They slithered inside of the neck and began dragging it back to pull the broken body together.
Lucius lay there for a moment, gazing up at Lucky with a knowing energy as the multitude of souls inside of their ancient form worked to stabilize it.
“Let me have this,” Lucky begged in a breathy whisper. “Please. Just… leave.”
Lucius’ damning, eerie expression went blank. “He has broken you.”
“Leave.”
Lucius began disappearing into whips of dark smoke, and did so with a warning. “I will be watching.”
The office was draped in silence aside from Luke and John’s whimpering. The scorched marks from Lucky’s hooves sizzled as the metal cooled. The prince’s heaving breaths refused to lessen until Charlie set his hand on his face and pulled him back from the brink of madness.
Not like this, I can’t let him see me like this, Lucky thought as the panic rose. He didn’t want to see Charlie’s expression, didn’t want to face the fear in his deep blue eyes. He didn’t want this version of him to be seared into Charlie’s—
“Breathe.”
Lucky inhaled.
“Look at me,” Charlie demanded.
“No.”
The prince hardly recognized his own voice. He tried to set him down but the human held on tighter.
“Not until I know you’re safe,” Charlie whispered.
Lucky crumbled under the weight of it. He dropped to his knees and let Charlie wrap his head up as best he could with the massive horns to hide him from the things he was afraid of.
The scared devil tried not to hold on too harshly, he didn’t want to hurt him.
He could smell the singed hairs on Charlie’s neck from where Lucius’ hand had touched him and refused to add more damage to his beautiful, freckle-dappled body.
“Are you hurt?” Lucky asked, still not meeting his gaze.
“No, merely a little frightened,” Charlie replied.
“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t… protect you. I keep messing all of this up.”
“Lucifer, look at me.”
Lucky flinched. Hearing his name said so sweetly was odd.
His ear twitched and he finally lifted his head.
It felt so heavy being held by Charlie’s hands.
Charlie was studying him, looking at his features and how…
monstrous he probably appeared. The true monster under the man-shaped facade, all blood red and wicked teeth with wild eyes and—
“You look so scared…” Charlie whispered.
Of course all Charlie saw was him. Even like this the priest still saw him.
All Lucky could do was nod. Charlie brushed back the messy, fallen locks of Lucky’s hair, fixing it around his horns in an obvious attempt at trying to keep him calm.
The priest then returned his hand to Lucky’s cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.
Lucky’s eyes drifted down to where the pink imprint of Lucius’ hand rested against the parts of Charlie’s skin that hadn’t been covered by the collar of his sweater.
He wanted to kiss it, take the pain away, but it would be too much.
He couldn’t let his emotions overwhelm him like that. Couldn’t let—
Charlie kissed him on the forehead. It was soft.
Sweet. Innocent. His heavy tail hit the floor with a thud as relief finally broke through the noise.
He didn’t want to think about the why, it was probably some weird human thing he didn’t understand, but he liked it.
He nudged his forehead into Charlie’s chest, knocking his glasses with the curve of his massive horn as he did.
“Did you… hurt it?” Charlie asked.
“Lucius? No, no, that probably only tickled knowing them.” Speech with his mouth split so wide like a beast’s felt impossible. He hoped he wasn’t slurring his words through the fangs.
“Who was that?”
“The Patient God of Anger, my older sibling and the heir to the Circle of… well, Anger.”
“They looked like an angel… but they felt so dark.”
Lucky nodded. “A lot of the old ones were angels once, or so the legend goes.”
Charlie looked at him, as if suddenly remembering the truth in Lucky’s words.
It was hard for Lucky to remember that, before many of them became the horned denizens of Hell, they were once angels.
That, in some weird way, he was also part angel.
That this form was probably not too far off from what God’s own army looked like when wars raged. He didn’t quite feel like one, though.
“You’re weirding me out, Chuck,” Lucky mumbled.
“I guess that’s why even this looks beautiful,” Charlie whispered.
“W-what?”
“I should be frightened but I’m mostly in awe.” Charlie laughed and gently poked the tip of Lucky’s horn with his finger. “You look like something out of a painting… or Dungeons and Dragons campaign. Does it hurt? To shift like that?”
“It’s incredibly painful… and it also shredded my outfit.”
“Can you… change back? Wait, will you be…” Charlie’s eyes drifted down with realization and his cheeks turned deep red. He quickly averted his eyes.
Heat flooded Lucky’s face as the truth that he was completely naked with only a few strands of cloth desperately trying to cling to his much larger form washed over him.
He was crouched in front of Charlie, being embraced by Charlie, with his dick and balls drifting in the wind and his ass out for all to see.
He quickly clapped his legs together and wrapped his large hand over Charlie’s face, bumping his glasses in the process as he cleared his throat.
“Stop staring, you little weirdo!” Lucky whined.
“Please, please, please tell me you have a change of clothes,” Charlie mumbled.
“Of course I do!”
Lucky carefully rose, censoring himself as best he could with his hands.
Not once in his long life had he ever felt the need to censor himself, so this was a new feeling.
His tail wrapped itself around his thigh again as he walked with as quick of a pace as his large, lumbering frame would allow.
As he went, he looked back over his shoulder to see Charlie staring at him for a moment before the priest seemingly caught himself and turned away.
The prince managed to ease his body back into its normal size and slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie he kept on hand in case of an emergency such as this.
It had obviously been a while since he’d worn them.
The fashion was extremely out of date and the hoodie was a tad snug around his spectacular muscles, but it would do.
He managed to find his phone amongst the tossed about couch cushions and tattered remains of his previous outfit.
“The food is here, I’ll run down and grab it. Are you okay?” Lucky asked as Charlie started walking back toward him.
He could tell Charlie wanted to be brave, but the small shake of his head was proof enough that the situation had rattled him.
“Stick close to the hound, it’s the damn thing’s literal job to keep you safe. I’ll be gone for a few seconds at most, if you need to, or feel you have to, you can hide under the desk. No one will hurt you, I promise,” Lucky said.
“Okay.”
“Good. Let’s eat, knock out as much as we can, then we’ll go home. Together.”
Charlie nodded. “Together.”