Lucian, who—as far as I knew—had no reason to lie despite being called the Father of Lies. He might've been a lot of things, but what could he gain by making it up? I found it hard to believe he'd waste his time on mind games with me. It made no sense.
I drew a deep, shaky breath. "Did they…" I traced a finger along an imaginary line of the blanket. "Did they catch my dad?" Deep in my heart, I knew the answer, but I had to know. Definitively. I'd lived for years always wondering.
"Yes." His eyes met mine.
"Did they—" I cleared my throat, hoping the tight, hot ball of pain at the back would disappear.
He laid a hand over mine. "They killed him. I can give further details, but I doubt you'd like what you heard. I will not spare you, though, if that is your choice."
"No." I violently shook my head, sending my loose curls to twist in the air around my head. "I don't want to know any more." My emotions were a boat seesawing on a humongous rogue wave.
Rage at what the thugs had done to my parents fought with the sorrow of knowing I'dneverbe reunited with them again. At least, not in this life.
On some level deep down in my heart, I'd always held out hope one day they'd show up and explain why they'd left me. They'd swear they'd always loved me, that everything had just been a terrible misunderstanding and we could all go home and live as a happy family. Maybe I'd even have siblings I'd never met.
Now? Nothing but bittersweet agony and profound loss ripped through my chest.
The only comfort in my lonely world while growing up had been Lucian's sporadic visits and his thoughtful surprises.
Ironic, really.
Humans had treated my parents terribly. The devil had treated me with kindness.
I splayed my fingers across the scratchy gray wool blanket and turned my hand palm up against his.
His fingers tightened around mine as his spicy-smoky, masculine scent teased my nose.
We stayed like that until the rogue wave of emotions crested and rolled out of my eyes.
He sheltered me in his warm embrace, becoming the shoreline as I crashed against his chest and released my anguish.
A few minutes or a few hours later—I'd lost all sense of time in my grief—I pushed out of Lucian's arms and looked around.
He'd pulled me onto his lap and we sat against the wall at the head of the bed. He'd held me tightly and stroked my hair as I'd cried.
"I'm sorry," I said, turning away and placing my feet on the floor.
"I'm not." His weight left the bed, sending the mattress to spring upward with a squeak. The rustle of his clothing sounded behind me, and then he stood before me and knelt. "Anna, I understand why you hate me. Sometimes, I hate myself, too."
His words caught me by surprise. He'd always seemed so self-assured, so emotionless. This little glimpse into his deeper self gave me a deeper understanding of the man who hid inside the demon.
"Lucian," I reached for his hand and held it in mine. I tipped my chin upward to stare at his face. Those chiseled cheekbones and dark eyes told me this man—this angel—had dealt with plenty of pain and grief in his immortal existence. I understood the coldness he carried. It was a self-preservation mechanism that had worked well over the span of endless time. "I don't hate you. I thought I did, but after finding out you didn't torture Jason, that you're going to help Ryan, then giving me the truth about my parents, it's not hatred I'd harbored in my heart."
He stood and pressed his forehead against mine. "You have no idea what a relief it is to hear that. I know I haven't been the greatest friend to you. My jealousy got the best of me, but Iamtrying, Anna. I truly am."
"I know." His hot skin on mine felt wonderful. "And that's one of the reasons I loved you, even as a child. As much as you didn't want to be around a human, you still tried to help me in your own way."
"Loved?" He pulled back a couple of inches and searched my face. "As in the past tense?" His muscles tensed, as if he didn't want to hear my answer but braced himself for the worst.
"Pastandpresent." I gave him a small smile.
Wonder flashed in his eyes. For a few seconds, his bronzed skin seemed to glow with golden light. "I haven't known love in a long, long time. Lust, desire, need—yes. All of those. But not the true, non-judgmental, all-forgiving love my heart has for you."
My emotions had been on a roller coaster since Lucian barged back into my life, but this was one emotion I wouldn't ignore.
My hair hung limply around my face. I reached into the nightstand and pulled out the silver hairpin. "You gave this to me for my birthday." The ruby sparkled in the low light of the lamp.
"I remember." He plucked it from my hand, kissed the stone, then swept my hair to the side. "This is more than just a hairpin, my love." He tenderly slid the pin against my scalp, then cupped my cheeks. "It was a birthday present imbued with protection; its purpose is to keep you from harm."
