Chapter Eight - Lucifer #4
As I walked down the hall, I could see a person inside each one.
Men, women, maybe even some younger. Some lay sprawled on beds with perfect linens pulled smooth beneath them, hair arranged like art, mouths parted as if caught mid-sigh.
Some sat upright, hands folded neatly in their laps, eyes fixed on nothing.
A few stared straight ahead with the faintest smile, glassy-eyed and distant, like the world had become a pleasant daydream they’d decided to live inside forever.
None of them looked up when I moved. They didn’t track me or react to the sound of my boots on the marble. It was the stillness that made it strange.
One woman blinked slowly, as if in slow motion. A man across from her turned his head an inch, then stopped, expression smoothing back into calm emptiness as if even curiosity was forbidden. Someone laughed softly behind a curtain, a sound too warm to belong in a place this cold.
My stomach clenched. It reminded me of the places I’d known well in Heaven long ago.
I’d never been in this one before, but my bones recognized it, the way the air leaned, the way the light warmed itself into reverence, the way the hall seemed built to worship something unseen.
It had The First Light’s hands all over it.
Rage surged up so fast it made my vision sharpen, made my wings twitch like they wanted to tear the ceiling open. Something told me this was The Beloved, His collection. His perfect, obedient museum of living bodies.
Fuck. Was she here?
“Evie,” I called, and my voice echoed thinly down the corridor.
There was no answer. But the tether in my chest pulled hard, a hot line yanking me forward, and panic snapped tight around my ribs. I broke into a run, my boots striking marble, the sound wrong in all that soft, holy hush.
“Evie!” I shouted. “Where are you?”
Heads didn’t turn. No one walked out of their room. No one reacted like a name shouted in a hallway should mean anything at all. Only the light shifted slightly, as if it disapproved.
I ran faster anyway, scanning each alcove, each bed, each glassy stare. My throat burned as rage and fear braided together into something feral.
“Evie,” I yelled again, louder, refusing the quiet. “Evie!”
And somewhere ahead, I felt her, close enough to make me furious and afraid. Close enough to make me hope.
“Evie!” My voice echoed, swallowed, came back thinner than it should’ve been.
My panic rose, clean and hot. I moved faster following the pull in my chest that had never once lied to me. I could feel her. She was close, too close not to reach. At the far end of the hall, something shifted. A curtain stirred. My heart slammed hard enough to hurt.
There. I surged forward—
But the hall lengthened, the distance stretching like it could decide where I was allowed to be. Every step forward felt heavier, like gravity itself had been reassigned.
“No,” I snarled, pushing harder. “Don’t you—”
Her voice reached me then. “Luc!”
The sound of it cracked straight through my chest.
“I’m here,” she yelled. “I’m right here.”
I could hear the strain in it. I could picture her even before I saw her, standing just beyond reach, fighting the space the same way I was.
“I hear you,” I shouted, sprinting now, wings flaring. “Evie, I’m coming.”
And there she was, wrapped in a golden robe, bare feet slipping against the marble, both hands fisted in the curtains like they were the only thing keeping the room from dragging her backward.
She was trying to reach me, fighting for every inch, but with each step her body was shoved back toward where He wanted her to stay.
Rage flooded me, blinding and old. Fire lit in my hands, ready to throw.
I took another step, lifting my hand. And the light changed.
It thickened, warming the air in a way that made my skin crawl.
The curtains leaned inward. The hall straightened, aligning itself around a presence that didn’t need to announce itself to be obeyed.
I knew before I saw Him.
“No,” I growled, slowing despite myself. “You don’t get to—”
The First Light entered. The warmth turned lingering, syrupy, curling around my wings, my shoulders, my throat, like a hand meant to soothe and restrain at the same time.
Evie screamed something I couldn’t quite hear over the pressure roaring in my head. I lunged, but the light crushed me downward. My knee hit the marble hard enough to knock my teeth together.
I fought it as my muscles screamed as I tried to rise, but the floor might as well have been His palm, holding me exactly where He wanted me. My wings folded in tight, dragged down by brilliance that burned without heat.
“Luc! Look at me,” she screamed. “Please.”
I strained and forced my head up. She was there. Right there.
I tried to answer. I tried to say her name, but nothing came out. The humiliation burned hotter than my rage as I planted my hands against the floor and shoved, every instinct I had rebelling, snarling, refusing.
The light pulsed. Pain lanced through my shoulders. My knee scraped uselessly against the marble, my body shaking with effort that didn’t matter.
The First Light turned His attention past me. Toward her.
That was when my fear finally broke through the fury.
“No,” I mouthed, again and again. No sound. No mercy.
The space behind her yawned open, silk and shadow snapping closed around her as she was dragged backward, the hall correcting her existence with brutal calm.
“Evie—” I yelled and tore myself forward one last time.