Epilogue Charlotte
Epilogue
Charlotte
Eleven months later . . .
“Tell me again why you won’t allow us to do this for you, darling?” Lucifer trails a bead of sweat from my shoulder to between my breasts with his finger, like he’s wishing he could lick me clean. But he knows I’m too hell-bent on this for him to deter me, so he doesn’t push me.
“I already told you,” I say, striding toward the meat locker’s entrance as I pass Faith to him.
He cradles her in one arm effortlessly, already a pro at caring for her.
She’s less than a year old, but he absolutely refuses to leave her alone with a nanny.
Nothing but the best for the devil’s daughter.
She’s going to be the most spoiled little princess Hell has ever seen.
Seeing the way he loves her has healed me in a way I didn’t realize I’d still needed, until now at least. Faith starts to fuss, squirming to get back to me, and more importantly, my boobs, which she’s in a constant—if slightly one-sided—battle with her dad for. But she always wins.
Azrael swoops in unexpectedly, stealing her out of Lucifer’s arms.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s just as much his as she is Lucifer’s.
He dotes on her with a level of praise he doesn’t even give me. “I’ve got her,” he grumbles, kissing her chubby cherubic cheeks until she’s giggling.
She somehow looks a bit like him, despite being the spitting image of Lucifer.
I think it’s the black feathered wings.
Lucifer seizes the baby-free moment to pull me into his arms, kissing my forehead gently. “We no longer need him, little dove.” He nods toward my father’s meat locker. “Might as well forget about him and be done with it.”
He dips his head lower, that devious mouth of his trailing down to my neck, as his hand dips over the curve of my ass.
He’s already vying for another baby soon, and I’m losing that battle quickly.
My devilish husband gets what he wants. Always.
One way or another.
And I can’t get enough of how devoted he is to me.
“If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to focus, and then I’ll lose my nerve.” I press a quick kiss to his lips and then Azrael’s, unsurprised he’s stayed silent about this.
He knows this is my choice, and he’s not about to take it from me.
Though neither is Lucifer, even if he might nudge me in whatever direction he sees fit.
“I already told you. I feel like I have to prove something. It’ll be quick. I promise.”
Lucifer huffs, reluctantly releasing me, but I don’t miss the devious gleam as his eyes flit over my collar.
Their collar.
The next time he gets me and Azrael alone in the playroom, we’re in for it.
“Who do you feel you have something to prove to, darling? To Azrael? To me?”
“To herself, Lucifer.” Azrael inhales a deep breath, tossing Faith up in the air so she giggles slightly. He passes her back to Lucifer and wraps his arms around me, burying his face into my neck as he inhales the scent of me.
Lucifer lets out an appreciative growl, enjoying the sight of us together.
He no longer tries to hide how he’s feeling.
Something changed after the wedding.
Like the rift that was once between them is a thing of distant memory.
I take their hands in mine. “I need you to support me in this, okay? Help me through this.”
Lucifer gives a derisive huff but then frowns, patting Faith until she starts to fall asleep in his arms, and Azrael just nods at me, urging me on.
Fortunately, I know that when push comes to shove, Lucifer will give me anything I ask for, because he loves me.
Death included.
“I love you,” I say to them.
“We’ll be waiting, little dove.” My devil nods, and then I turn and walk into my father’s chamber alone.
The meat locker is the same as the last time I visited.
But no one’s been down here much lately, and it shows.
A few cobwebs hang in the corners and a layer of dust—ash, maybe? considering we’re in Hell—has settled over everything.
When I enter, my father lifts his head unsteadily, his gaze combing over me, taking in the wider width of my hips, the changes in me. I’m not sure if he knows I’m a mother now, and I don’t care enough about him to tell him.
Faith will not know either of her grandfathers, and Lucifer and I plan to keep it that way.
To my surprise, my father doesn’t start in with his usual Bible quotes, though I’m pretty certain there’s nothing he could say that could hurt me.
I know who I am now.
Who I’m becoming.
Who I’ve always been.
And there’s nothing I’m ashamed of.
Except for one thing.
“Come to take your pound of flesh again, she-devil?” he hisses, more serpentine and crueler than the devil could ever be.
I shake my head. “No. That’s not what I’m here for.”
I’m here to exorcise the last demon he seems to have left in me.
My father quirks a brow but doesn’t say anything.
I inhale a deep breath. “I’m going to give you the one thing you could never give me.”
His eyes narrow. “And what’s that?”
“My mercy,” I say, a proud tear running down my cheek as I turn on my Louboutin heel and walk out of his chamber, smiling wickedly, my head held high.
Never once do I feel tempted to look back.