Lucifer cleared his throat. “That would be me. You’re welcome.”
I spun back in his direction. “You brought them back? For me?”
“Well, my brothers and I set aside centuries of generational trauma—oof!”
I flung myself into his arms and peppered his face with grateful kisses. “Thank you!”
“Of course, crabapple. Anything for you.”
It wasn’t lost on me now that Lucifer meant what he said. He’d given up his quest to end the world, set aside his throne, joined forces with his brothers, not to mention brought back the four men he’d always seen as his competition, all to give me what I needed.
“You really do love me.”
His expression was a mix of quizzical adoration. “Of course I do.”
“I love you too.”
“Does anyone else feel like she got over the us dying part a little too quickly? Where are our I love yous and happy smoochies?” Sin asked.
I could hear the pout in his voice and wasn’t fully convinced it was all an act so I pulled out of Luc’s embrace and went to my sweet Sin. Rising on my toes, I kissed him, rapidly deepening thekiss to ensure I conveyed just how happy I was he had returned to me. “I love you, Emmett Sinclair.”
He patted me on the butt and smirked. “Better.”
Malice pulled me out of Sin’s arms, claiming my lips before I could say a word. Tapping into the mental connection that was unique to us, he whispered his words of love for me alone.
“Not even death could keep me from you, hellcat. I staved off an apocalypse to be yours, I intend to enjoy every second that I’m owed.”
“I hope you know there isn’t a world for me without you in it, Mal. I will spend every moment we have loving you.”
He smiled and kissed me again, then released me so I could go to Chaos, who was patiently waiting his turn.
“You looked pretty torn up about losing us, Red. Something you need to tell me?”
“I love you, Chaos. So, so much.”
He tugged my hair, tipping my head back. “Good, because it’s the same for me.”
Then he claimed my mouth like the warrior he’d always been.
Last, but not least, Grim waited like a sentinel, his focus never leaving me as I approached. His hands were in his pockets, his silver eyes tinged with something a lot like panic.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He shook his head, clearly uncomfortable giving voice to his fear.
“Grim, tell me,” I insisted, grabbing the front of his shirt and giving it a little tug.
He slowly and very deliberately pulled his hands free from his pockets, lifting them until they were less than an inch away from my face on either side. “There was a moment just before I died when I realized I was never going to get to touch you again.”
My heart broke all over again, but the instant his fingers made contact with my skin, the grief we’d both experienced in that moment healed. We were still here. Still together.
“Kiss me,” I begged.
“Always,” he whispered, a second before his lips crashed down on mine.
Breaking the kiss, he looked into my eyes, the panic now gone and replaced with assurance. “I love you, wildflower. I will love you until the world stops spinning, and then some.”
“Good.”
