Chapter 45 #2
Lucifer has his fingers drifting down her cheek, then he gathers her hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. “You look delicate, but not fragile. Princess felt like a privileged term, and baby might have scared you—”
“Yes, that would’ve been strange.”
I chuckle alongside Lucifer and shift my arm under her head, letting her rest against my bicep. It lets me slip my hand beneath his head too, sandwiching it between him and the pillow.
“Dollface felt right,” he continues softly. “I hope you don’t hate it.”
I press my forehead to the back of her head, close my eyes and smile. Nothing—nothing—can express the happiness I feel hearing the two of them. There are no words, no true emotions that encapsulate this moment.
“No, I don’t… I like it.”
“Me too,” he says.
“Me three,” I murmur into her hair.
The only sounds that follow are her soft yawn and the slight rustling of the bed. Lucifer’s arm snakes around her waist, and I feel his hand brush against my stomach in the process. I wrap my arm around both of them, pulling him closer and holding them both.
It’s been lifetimes since I felt this way, and that alone terrifies me. Calm never comes without a storm behind it. I need to protect them. I need to keep them close.
Losing either of them would destroy me. Losing them both?
That will destroy an entire realm.
I can’t believe how deep I slept. There wasn’t even a middle-of-the-night shift—I was out cold.
I’d love to bask in how clear my head feels, but I can’t. Not when the bed is completely empty. I sweep my arm across it just to be sure, but neither Lucifer nor Amarah are here.
Throwing the blanket off, I sprint to the en-suite bathroom.
Empty.
For a moment, just the briefest one, I let panic grip my throat. Then I force it down, taking a deep breath I don’t need. I listen. I could reach through the bond, but instead I search for a heartbeat.
They’re faint, but I hear three—one slower than the others, likely Zuhara’s.
I groan and rub between my eyes. Good thing I don’t get wrinkles or gray hairs. I swear they’d be giving me both at this point.
Making my way through the hall and toward the stairs, their voices come into earshot.
“I don’t mind, really, but I prefer tea,” Lucifer says.
Amarah hums softly. “Coffee for me, but I like breakfast tea with a little milk.”
“Blasphemy.”
I can’t help a quiet chuckle, and finish the walk as silently as possible. Lucifer has definitely heard me but my little slayer hasn’t. Her hearing is no better than any other Mundane.
“You probably haven’t even tried it,” she teases, giggling. “I’ll make it like my mom used to for me, and you’ll try it at least once.”
“Sure, whatever you’d like, dollface.” Something like a sigh escapes him. “Also, speaking of your mom…”
“Oh.”
“I’m truly sorry.”
The sincerity in his tone makes me smile. This isn’t like him. He wasn’t even this way with me. Without even realizing it, she’s got the son of Belial wrapped around her finger. “If I hadn’t pulled you away that night—”
“Lucifer, it’s…” She lets out a light laugh, and I can’t tell if it’s discomfort or relief. “It’s alright. While I did think if you hadn’t asked for me, I would’ve been with my family… It was probably best I wasn’t there.”
I round the short hall and stop in the doorway. Lucifer is leaning against the counter, the kitchen styled like the rest of the house—older cabinetry from some Victorian era, dark wood with stained-glass windows on the upper cupboards. It has that same gothic atmosphere Amarah commented on.
She’s sitting on the center island, facing away from me. Her long white hair flows down the back of a white collared shirt she’s wearing. She doesn’t have pants on, but the shirt falls just past mid-thigh, so there’s really no need.
My little deviant knows I’m here, but he keeps his eyes on her. “Do you know who did it?”
She inhales deeply, her shoulders rising and falling. “Yes. I do.”
He sets his cup down and steps toward her.
I’ll admit, I was concerned about how their dynamic would be.
I didn’t expect her to warm to him immediately—obviously that was before I discovered they already knew each other.
But seeing her not flinch away when he brushes his knuckles against her cheek… it makes my heart beat faster.
“Would you like me to collect their soul and bring them to the Beyond?”
When she turns slightly, his hand follows to cup her cheek. She shakes her head. “No. That feels like a trivial problem for a prince.”
“Oh, bloody Beyond, do not call me a prince.”
She muffles a giggle. “I believe your father is known as King of the Beyond. So, that technically makes you the prince of this place.”
Lucifer rolls his eyes, and I take a step closer to them.
“I’ll only accept that title if you’ll be my princess. Hmm?”
“Would that make me prince number two?”
She doesn’t flinch at my sudden question. Instead, she turns her head a little more, those mischievous eyes locking right onto my very soul.
“How about you be the prince, you the princess,” Lucifer says, guiding her chin back toward him. “I’ll just be… Lucifer.”
He’s never really talked about his role here, and I hope we can sit down soon—all of us—and finally lay everything out.
I need to know what happened four hundred years ago, and even before that.
These two have so much they’ve been holding in, and I want to be the person they tell. I want to be their person.
“How about no titles,” she says, resting her hands on his bare chest just as I come around the island to their side.
“Deal.”
I reach for them both, but Lucifer puts a hand to the center of my chest to stop me.
The sadness in his eyes makes me furious, because I know exactly what he’s about to say.
“I showered, and she’s wearing my shirt to… you know.”
“Right…”
When I look to Amarah, she’s biting her bottom lip. Her soft voice flutters through the bond. “I’m sorry, baby.”
My eyes widen, but before I can address the “baby” thing, Lucifer sighs heavily.
“I have to go. Zuhara is going to stay here with you. Please… don’t go outside.”
He moves to the buttons on the white shirt she’s wearing. Only three are fastened, from the center of her chest down to her belly button.
“She’ll know if someone is coming and will take you”—he glances at me, giving a tired smile—“back to the Phantasm.” His gaze returns to Amarah.
“Dollface, you’ll tell me through our link, and I’ll come immediately.
But I doubt anyone will show. I’ll be with my father most of the day, and he’s the only one who seems interested in your whereabouts. ”
“Link, huh?” I tease.
“Don’t be jealous. I’ve used it on you, too.”
He has, but I know it can be taxing on him if used for too long. The brain is the most complex part of the body, and the mind is a maze without a real finish line.
“Just promise you’ll let me know?” he asks her.
“I will. Can I check in with you later?”
He opens his shirt, and I’m disappointed to see she’s wearing a bra. I didn’t exactly expect her to be naked… even if I’d hoped.
“Of course.”
When she slips the shirt off her shoulders, she rests her palms into her lap, crossing her wrists just right to hide the scar at her hip. Her panties only cover so much.
Lucifer takes one of her hands and kisses the back of it. “We’ll get that taken care of.” He flicks his gaze to me, then back to her. “I’ll see you both tonight.”
He steps back, pulls the shirt on, and a dark stretch of shadow spills from the cupboards, spreading open like a zipper behind him. He gives me one last smile before slipping through it and vanishing.
I sigh and turn to my girl.
“I think…” she says softly, reaching out for me. “He’s growing on me.”