“From Lucifer,” Zenon said and got the hell out of here. I didn’t blame him.
She looked down at whatever it was he’d given her, then grinned. “About fucking time.”
Roxy
Ursula spun away from Silas, a smirk on her face, but as soon as she was sure Uma couldn’t see her, her expression shifted to fury. She grabbed my hand and led me from the room, down a short hall to the bathrooms.
She shut us in, locked the door, then snarled in rage, slamming her fist into the wall.
“What’s going on, Urs?”
She held up her hand, showing me the jagged stone key.
“Holy shit.” I’d only ever seen one like it, but that had been centuries ago. Now I knew why Zenon was here. The invitation had to be delivered by the leader of the realm you were representing, or someone from their bloodline. That didn’t explain Silas’s appearance though.
“What the actual fuck is Lucifer playing at?”
I frowned. “Urs?—”
“First, he sends you off with Lothar and now me and fucking Silas?”
Shit.
She shook her head, pacing. “I’ve been wanting to represent Hell in The Tartarean for centuries, and he’s forcing me to do it with Silas? I’m not doing it. No fucking way.”
Ursula did not show vulnerability, and she didn’t let people in. Even with me it was rare for her to admit how she was feeling, and this show of anger, of reluctance, told me just how much she still cared for the fallen angel. She’d wanted to take part in The Tartarean—a brutal tournament—for so long, but not like this.
She’d let Silas in, allowed herself to care for him, which was why what happened with Uma had cut her so deep. Uma and Ursula loathed each other at the best of times. Urs had good reason, and mistake or not, that made Silas’s betrayal that much more cutting.
“You don’t have a choice,” I said gently.
She shook her head, still pacing. “I will never forgive Lucifer for this, for making me do this. Never.”
“You don’t mean that,” I said and closed the space between us. “If I can forgive him, then so can you.”
She spun to me. “And have you? Forgiven him for making you spend every moment with Lothar for the foreseeable future? The male you once loved with your whole heart? A male who doesn’t remember that once upon a time he loved you too?”
It felt as if the oxygen had been punched from my lungs. No, I hadn’t forgiven him. I wanted to, but I couldn’t, not yet, not when I was still in this, living this, and Lothar was just outside those doors, waiting for me in the bar.
“Exactly,” she spit out. “He says he loves us, then personally tears open our wounds, not caring if we fucking bleed out.”
“You’ve wanted this for so long, and this time your skills will be invaluable. You have to do this?—”
“I know,” she snapped. “I know I have to do this, but it doesn’t mean I’ll forgive him.”
I squeezed her hand. “It’ll be okay.”
Her vibrant green eyes held mine. “Do you really believe that?”
“I have to,” I choked out. The alternative wasn’t something I could contemplate.
Someone banged on the door.
“I hope you’re right,” she said, then yanked the door open and strode back out to the bar.
I followed her past the crowded dance floor and toward the table Lothar and Silas still sat at. My gaze skimmed over the fallen angel. He looked as if he’d be more at home in Hell than Heaven. He kind of looked like a huge goth, all inked up, that black and gold hair, and those lashes that were so dark and thick they could be mistaken for eyeliner. He also had intense silver eyes that made you think he saw too much.
Both males stood as we neared, but I purposely didn’t look at Lothar, my emotions were too close to the surface right then, and if I looked at him, I was afraid of what he might see in my eyes.
