Knowledge so simple was personal, and to know something personal about Lucifer that likely no other demon did…
It warmed every part of my body.
“If you were to ask someone what instrument they associate with heaven, what would they say?”
“The harp,” I answered without missing a beat.
“The harp,” he confirmed.
“What does a harp have to do with you playing the cello?”
“I used to play the cello in heaven.”
An unmistakable flash of longing cracked across his features, and for the first time, the mask of indifference didn’t just slip...
It fractured.
“I was my Father’s favorite musician.”
I didn’t interrupt. Didn’t breathe. I just let him speak and took in the image of him, not as the devil, not as the king of damnation, but as something that had once been precious. Loved.
“He would gather angels from all corners of heaven to hear me play. The rich sound of its strings carried across the universe and brought harmony to all things, for one cannot fall to mayhem when such aural magnificence exists.” He paused. Gritting his teeth.
“When I fell…” His voice dropped to a whisper I wasn’t sure was meant for me. “When I was thrown from the cliffs of heaven, the shattered pieces of my cello were thrown with me.”
His silence was louder than any scream.
I whispered, “Oh, Luci,” and reached instinctively for him before stopping myself, unsure.
“It matters not,” he muttered, though the tension in his jaw told me it did.
That it always had.
“The fuck it doesn’t,” I snapped, anger suddenly hot in my chest and burning for him. Because something about the image of celestial music hurled into nothingness made my throat burn. Lucifer's love for his Father had flowed through the cords of his music and in the end, it hadn't mattered.
He wasn’t just cast out. He was erased.
Just before I could curse the almighty himself, Lucifer's hands gripped my waist, his hold firm, possessive, distracting, and lifted me into the air. And just like that, the mood shifted again. Loose strands of hair tickled my nose as he spun and when I looked down, it became evident just how sheer my gown was.
Though he danced like royalty, Lucifer was no gentleman. He wielded beauty like a weapon. Grief like a seduction.
Even as he spun me, held me, teased every nerve ending raw, the melancholic tune of his fate still haunted my mind.
He held me as if it were effortless, eyes roving hungrily over my naked torso wrapped in little more than fine mesh. Molten fire pooled between my thighs, going against every rational brain cell I had left.
When he finally lowered me, it was slow and deliberate. There was no part of my body left untouched by his as he held me close in a controlled slide toward the ground. When my peaked nipples pressed against his chest, a traitorous moan slipped past my lips. Lucifer’s grip on my waist tightened, the change nearly imperceptible, but I was so attuned to his touch that it felt like a vice.
My feet met icy stone too soon and Lucifer stepped back, leaving a chasm in between our bodies I wasn’t prepared to handle. The last shred of dignity I owned was the only reason I didn’t beg him to come back.
“Do not be fooled by humanity. You are more than a curiosity, dearest Dany,” he rasped, taking my hand and placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “You arecalamity.”
I was unraveling.
“Do not be fooled by humanity.”
Had it been a dream? Or did Lucifer whisk me away to a ruined castle and literally sweep me off of my feet before returning me to my bed? Was I Belle in the Beast’s dusty library?
After thirty years living in the demon version of la-la-land, my past was beginning a catastrophic fall from the atmosphere, and I wasn’t sure I would survive the impact.
