Page 173 of The Bonds of Indigo

It resembles a greenhouse, attached directly to the dining room. I’ve yet to see the sky since arriving, and this space is no different—the glass is fogged over with some sort of shimmering film. It lets in a silver glow, as if the moon were shining through, but I can’t see anything beyond it.

I run my hand along a table filled with red flowers I’ve never seen before. Some are black, rose-like, though I can’t be sure. The air smells lovely, but it’s far too warm for my liking. I’m already sweating.

When a hand slides across the small of my back, I look up to see Lucifer smiling. “You handled that better than I’d have expected.”

I shrug as if it’s nothing. Deep down, I was terrified. I just didn’t let it show or allow it to fester enough to interfere with the only objective my brain seems capable of having anymore:

Survive.

“Thanks. You too. You know… not cutting your dad’s head off or anything.”

His chuckle is soft, and the half-smile that pulls out a dimple has me itching to touch it. He has this sophisticated air about him. Like I could find him in a grand library, hunting down a book he hasn’t read yet, with Kayn beside him listening contentedly as he reads aloud. He just seems like the kind of man who could be happy simply existing next to someone he cares for.

He slows us as a few vines brush over the path, then stops entirely. “I’m going to take you to my home.”

“Right…” I peer around for a door, but the greenhouse has only the entrance we came through.

“I need to take you through my shadows to get there. It shouldn’t hurt.”

“Shouldn’t?” I snap my gaze to him. “That’s not very reassuring, Lucifer.”

He hums, the sound low, pleased. His smile warms in a way that makes my pulse skip.

“What?” I demand.

“I enjoy you saying my name.” He murmurs something else under his breath that’s too soft to catch, but it pulls me toward him without thought.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” His lips curl. “If it hurts, I’ll kiss it better. How’s that?”

My eyes widen as heat climbs my throat. “I… no, that’s not necessary. But thank you…”

He tugs me fully against him, our bodies fitting together far too well. “It’s very necessary, dollface.”

I don’t get the chance to argue. He wraps both arms around me—one around my shoulders, the other cinched around my waist—and steps backward.

Darkness envelops us, and it isn’t just dark. It’s absolute. An intense black that makes the world around me feel endless. There’s no up, no down, no sense of my own body. If it weren’t for Lucifer’s arms locked around me, I’d swear he’d tossed me into some void and left me to fall forever.

“Don’t be afraid.” His voice cuts through the nothing, right in front of me. But even when I turn toward him, there’s nothing to see. I look down—still nothing. Not even the outline of my own hands. “No light comes in here, so you can’t even see yourself.”

My breath escapes unevenly, trembling in the small space between us. As I draw another in, his thumb sweeps over my lower lip.

“Can you see me?” I whisper.

“I can.”

His fingers trail from my cheek, up toward my ear, then sinks into my hair. “Shadows were created by me, after all. I’m their weaver. They bow to me. Why would they ever impede my vision?”

I can’t think of anything to say to that because it both terrifies me and settles me, so I stay quiet and let his hands be the only anchor I have. We’re moving, that much I can sense, but whether we’re drifting upward or plummeting down, I can’t tell.

Seconds—or minutes—pass before he murmurs, “Close your eyes. Coming back into the light will be jarring, and I don’t want you getting a headache.”

I don’t hesitate and shut my eyes immediately.

He pulls me closer, guiding my forehead against the solid warmth of his collarbone. The darkness begins to thin behind my eyelids, light bleeding gradually through.

“I’ve never been the domineering type,” he says as the shadows fade around us. “Thanks for listening without giving me a hard time.”