“Rune would’ve been wounded, but she would’ve survived.Youalmost didn’t!” He turned back to me, the wooden footboard creaking beneath his punishing grip. “Seven Hells, Lucille.”
I startled at my name. He never used it.
He straightened, crossing his arms. “I don’t know whether you lack skill, intelligence, or any sense of self-preservation.”
My face flushed at his accusation. “I was protecting myself and Rune.”
“Except you weren’t. If Rune hadn’t signaled me, you would’ve either died from Divine Wasting or drowned in Portal Lake.”
I turned away, my cheeks burning with shame, hiding behind the veil of my hair. He was right. I’d pushed myself too hard. With Rune, yes—I couldn’t bear seeing her hurt—but the rest had been instinct and fear. I hadn’t wanted to burn Ni with my Glory, so I’d shielded instead. But that was where my strategy ended, and the weight of my power caught up to me.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” I whispered, eyes fixed on the open book on the end table beside the chair.
“So we’ll train until you do.”
I frowned. “We’ll?”
“Yes. You got your wish. I’ll meet you at your rooms tomorrow evening.” With that, he turned and left.
I sat frozen, dumbfounded by his change in tune. And that was when Lucifer walked in.
“Lucille, you’re awake.”
I nodded, still trying to process the words—or more accurately, the tirade—I’d just endured.
“I assume the general briefed you on your additional power training sessions?” Lucifer asked, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked down at me with narrowed eyes.
“Yes.”
“Good. From what the general and healer reported, you need them.” The disapproval in his tone was unmistakable.
I clenched my jaw and dropped my gaze to his shiny red shoes. I didn’t need another lecture.
“How are you feeling?” His voice softened slightly, but there was still a sharp edge to it.
“Fine.” Nothing hurt, and I was sure Sam had replenished my energy once again.
“I’m sure those two days of rest did you well.”
Two days?
“Did anyone visit me?”
Lucifer gave me a curious look. “The general and I came by a few times.”
I sighed, feeling a slight tug in my chest. But I nodded, accepting his answer even though it stung.
Lucifer sank into the chair beside me, reached across the space, and took my hand. He flipped my palm over, aligning it with his own to reveal a mark etched into his skin—one that almost mirrored mine.
I glanced up at him in surprise. “What are they?”
“After all your reading and our conversations, what can you tell me?”
He was testing me now?
I refrained from rolling my eyes and thought back.
The only time Lucifer had mentioned cutting his hand was when describing the process of opening the gates or using Portal Lake. I’d assumed he meant a quick slice. But now, seeing his palm, I realized it was far more intricate. The lines carved into his skin were a mixture of old and new scars, some faded, others still raw. A pattern emerged—strikingly similar to mine—woven into the red of his recent wounds.
