The remaining monks in the room scrambled for the warming room door, pounding on it, breaking their nails on the wood as they scratched and screamed.
Saer flinched when Kalia’s dripping hands snapped around his wrists, Lucifer pushing them into the First’s chest between their bodies.
Kalia’s deranged face hovered before his, her breath hot on his cheek.
With every ounce of innate pride in his body, Saer forced his steely gaze to meet the vermilion one in front of him.A single word emerged, strangled between gritted teeth.
“Master.”
A sigh flowed through Saer’s mind, touching parts of him it shouldn’t have, and he fought back a shudder.Kalia’s eyelids closed in a languid blink, and when they reopened, the scarlet pulled back to onyx.Never forget, Saerkhanum.
The words meant so much beyond what Lucifer said.
One of Kalia’s hands lifted, and his maker ran a blood-stained finger along Saer’s lower lip.I love you, my brilliant First.It’s why your absence and defiance hurts me so.The fallen angel tracked Kalia’s digit as it painted red on Saer’s frozen mouth, Its tone absent.But I understand it.You’re so like me.Destroying you would be to destroy a piece of myself.
Lucifer’s touch, even filtered through Sloth, boasted a combination of torture and rapture.He couldn’t move.
Kalia’s black eyes darted up, meeting Saer’s paralyzed gaze.You will come back to me.The chilling prediction slid under his skin, unpleasant and too pleasant all at once.
Kalia’s red-painted hands cupped each side of Saer’s face.Blood smearing, Lucifer leaned forward and pressed Kalia’s lips to Saer’s forehead in an unhurried kiss.
Then, as if all the bones disappeared from her anatomy at once, Kalia slumped against him with a sob.
Saer felt more than saw Lucifer’s absence as his maker departed her body.
37
Saer’sbloodrushedthroughhis ears, a pounding susurration that covered all else.Eyes unfocused and staring across the room, he tried swallowing past a throat as dry as desert sands.
The frightened mewls and whimpers of the remaining monks gradually slunk into his consciousness.Blood dried on his forehead, the sides of his face and lips, cracking and pulling at the skin.It itched.
“Kalia.”Saer’s voice sounded far away to his ears.His hands still pressed against his own chest, her shoulder leaning into them.
She lay limp against him, her body rocked by intermittent shudders and sniffles.
Saer tested moving his arms from between them, managing to get them out to his sides where they hovered.
What did a big brother do in this situation?
What should aDaemoenicdo instead?
Which was right?
Why did ‘right’ matter?
Another sob broke from Kalia, and his impulses took over.Leaning down, he wrapped his strong arms around her smaller, softer form, and pulled her closer.
She fought back at first, then collapsed against him, weeping.The stone wall at his back braced them, and he tilted his head into the solid surface, taking deep breaths to slow the pounding of his heart while Kalia’s cries devolved into hiccups.
What monks remained were just as incapacitated, the aftermath of trauma.
Saer licked his lips and grimaced when he tasted old blood.“We need to relocate you.”
Kalia’s whimpering reply was inaudible.
“Kalia?”
“I washappy here!”The demoness followed her shrill declaration by slugging her fists into Saer’s chest, pushing herself away with startling violence.
