“She offered me a son,” Lucifer replies, bored. “She gave me a daughter. The bond snapped because it wasmeantto snap.”
Her eyes burn, the sconces flickering in response. “Youusedher.”
“Sheaskedto be used,” he answers simply. “Power was the only thing she worshipped more than me.”
I feel Piper’s fury rise like a storm. Her magic flashes through the air, bright and sharp—wards sharpening around her, the pendant at her throat glowing like a star about to burst.
I step in close, voice low. “Piper.Enough.”
“No,” she hisses. “He destroyed her life. Heruinedan entire bloodline. He—”
Lucifer raises a hand, stopping Piper in her tracks. She glows. The curse hums like a living thing, hot and alive beneath her skin. My own magic snarls in response, coiling protectively, furious at the pull radiating off her.
“Slade,” she whispers, “why is he looking at me like that?”
Because he sees the bond tying itself between us—feels the curse responding to her anger. Because she’s too much like Veda in all the ways that mattered—and none of the ways that would have saved her.
Lucifer steps closer. This time I don’t let Piper slip past me. My arm snakes behind her, drawing her against my side, my aura flaring high and sharp.
“That’s close enough,” I warn.
Lucifer lifts a brow. “You shield her more fiercely than any mate I’ve ever seen.”
“She doesn’t belong to you,” I say.
He grins. “She looks at me like she wants to stab me. Veda looked at me like that too.”
Piper lunges, and I catch her around the waist, pulling her back against my chest. She shakes with fury. “Say her name again and I swear Iwill—”
“You will donothing,” Lucifer interrupts, voice soft and razor-sharp. “You came intomyrealm. You rifled throughmyarchives. You stirred old magic. You owemean explanation.”
“You owe myfamilyan apology.”
Lucifer considers her for a moment—really looks at her. The curls. The stubborn chin. The curse coiled around her ribs like a serpent waiting to strike. “…No,” he says finally. “I don’t.”
She lets out a breathless laugh of disbelief, anger spiking so hot the air warps. He steps back with a lazy shrug, dismissing us with a wave. “You may go.”
I blink. “Just like that?”
“For now.” His smile dips wicked. “But you will return.”
Piper crosses her arms. “Why would I ever come back?”
“Because the next rite nears,” Lucifer says. “Lupercalia. A delightful celebration of passion, blood, and bonding. I expect to see you both.” Hisgaze drags over her slowly, insolently. “Inorout of clothes.”
Piper’s magic detonates in a flare so brilliant the bridge lights up.
I snarl and take a step forward. “You don’t speak to her like—”
Lucifer lifts a hand, amused. “Calm down, Athalar. I’m not inviting her to my bed. I’m inviting her to her birthright.”
Her breath stutters. “Mywhat?”
“You’ll understand in time,” he says. “But for now—leave.”
Piper is shaking when I guide her back through the portal. Not from fear. From fury. From betrayal that isn’t even hers—but burns through her blood as though it is.
When the portal seals behind us, she sags into my chest, breath trembling. I hold her, one arm banded around her waist, my magic wrapping her like a shield. “He’s a bastard,” she whispers.
