I groaned, the impact jarring through my spine. I lay there, letting the snow kiss the nape of my neck. The sensation was soothing until it began to burn.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed up onto my forearms. “I thought the purpose of this was to show me how to improve the things I did wrong, not beat me at the things I did right.”
She reached out a gloved hand, her armor glinting in the porch light. I took it, but she didn’t pull me up.
“No. The purpose of your training is to make you faster and more equipped than Lucifer himself,” she said firmly, the seriousness of her gaze making me pause.
“Lucifer isn’t going to kill me.”
She ignored me and pulled me to my feet.
It wasn’t that I thought it was impossible. Lucifer had an agenda—why else place me in an elite squadron? But Cato’s words had slithered into my mind, making me question the king’s intentions.
“Isn’t he your cordistella? Your soulmate? Why would he kill me if it meant losing you?” At least emotionally. I suppose if he killed me, my mother would wake from her coma.
My mom tilted her head to the stars and sighed. “We’re no longer cordistellas. Our bond was severed when Lucifer was made King of Hell.”
“Okay, but he still loves you.”
Her eyes locked onto mine, but there was a quiet sadness in the downturn of her lips. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
“So you turned to Michael?” The words escaped before I could stop them, but I just couldn’t understand how he fit into all this. Lucifer would do anything for my mom—he acted like he wanted the best for me, something Michael could never claim. “I don’t get it.”
My mom’s eyes narrowed, and she swept her leg, sending me back into the snow. “If and when I am ready, Lucille Chiara.”
I gritted my teeth, wanting to know what she was hiding. She had a whole life before me, hundreds of years’ worth, and I knew an infinitesimal part of it.
Her hand fell in front of my face, and for a moment, I considered refusing it. But despite how frustrating her terms were, I knew I needed whatever help she could offer. I slapped my hand into hers, and a flood of overwhelming love and security washed over me, momentarily silencing the chaos in my mind.
I sprang to my feet and into her arms, hugging her tightly. “I love you so much.”
She pulled away abruptly, shoving me back and raising her guard as she circled me. I smiled, arms wide, hoping for another hug. But instead, she punched me.
Her fist slammed into my side, then my stomach, and I gasped, stumbling back. For a split second, confusion cut through the overwhelming love, but it quickly faded.
“Lucy, remember what I told you earlier. How do you fight off someone’s power?”
Her words resonated with something I needed to remember, but it was buried beneath the sticky love clouding my thoughts. “I don’t want to fight you,” I admitted, the words tasting wrong as they left my mouth.
She sent another combination into my body, carefully avoiding my face, as if she knew I wouldn’t be able to block it. But Icouldblock. So why didn’t I?
Each painful punch jolted me, pushing harder against the haze in my mind. They came faster, and with each strike, my frustration bled through the love. I raised my arms, barely managing to block a few.
“Good. Fight it, but remember what I said.”
I needed to make her feel pain, to pull her focus away from her power. But how? Even with my mind fully in control, I couldn’t land a punch. Then, an idea sparked.
I forced myself to focus, drawing on the whispers of my Infernus, willing the purple flames to flare to life in my mind. It felt foreign, like a muscle I hadn’t used in ages, strained and hesitant. Back when we used to argue, I’d sheath my skin to keep her out, though it was an accident, triggered by my anger. But this time, I didn’t want her to see me resisting—if I could manage it.
My head throbbed as I struggled to envision the shield, each punch she sent my way disrupting what little progress I made. Sweattrickled down my neck, and I panted, hoping she’d think it was from our sparring.
At the last second, just before giving up, I managed a thin, wavering barrier. It barely held back her influence, and her powers still probed at the cracks. But it was better that some snuck through, knowing she could feel emotional shifts. I needed her toassumeshe still had control. Still, I gained enough mental ground to quiet the overwhelming love that had silenced my clarity. I kept the stupid smile plastered on my face, my hands awkwardly held up in front of my chest to maintain the act.
“Fight it, Lucy. Or you’ll never win.” She threw a punch at my face, and I let it connect. There was half a second where I could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t.
I whimpered, and it wasn’t entirely faked. She hit hard, and my head wouldn’t stop throbbing, but I exaggerated the reaction. I dropped one hand, clutching my jaw with the other, pretending to be stunned. Her attack faltered, and I seized the opportunity. With a swift twist, I brought my dropped hand up in a controlled uppercut, landing it squarely on her chin.
