Page 101 of She Who Holds My Wrath

I reach forwards without thinking and shut the water off, the sudden silence ringing in my ears. I grab a towel and hold it out for him, but he doesn’t move. So I sit. Right there on the wet stone beside him, my shoulder brushing his. I wrap the towel around his shoulders carefully, taking him in.

“I felt you,” I whisper. “In Aurora’s Veil. I heard you before, but there… I felt you. You gave me the strength to survive.”

He leans forwards, forehead pressing to his knees. “It wasn’t enough.”

I shake my head fiercely. “It was enough, Korithax.”

He turns to me then, eyes blazing with grief. “Watching you kill him was the first time I laughed in months,” he admits. “Seeing you splattered in his blood… gods, Daisy. You were magnificent. Terrifying. I just wish I’d been there to hold him down while you destroyed him.”

He swallows hard, tears shining in his obsidian eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say softly, placing my hand atop his.

He huffs, his head dropping back to the stone wall. “You said it yourself: I left.”

I quiet for a long moment, idly stroking my thumb across his knuckles. “I was hurting. I was angry, Korithax. But never at you. Never.”

Something in him finally gives. He pulls me into his arms, water-soaked and shaking, burying his face into my shoulder. I hold him there until his breathing evens out, until exhaustion finally pulls at him enough.

Later, he sleeps curled around me in bed, heavy and warm and real, one arm banded tightly around my waist, like even in sleep he’s afraid I’ll vanish. His breath fans softly against the back of my neck, steady and deep, but mine refuses to match it.

I stare into the dark for what feels like hours, my thoughts too loud to let me rest. The palace bells chime twice when I slip free of his hold. I pause, watching him stir faintly before settling again, then pull on my silk robe and pad quietly down the halls.

I nervously bite at the side of my thumb as I gently tap on the door twice. I wait. Nothing. Heat creeps into my cheeks. This is stupid. I should go back to bed. I turn to leave just as the door swings open.

Maelkar stands there with messy hair, shirtless, and looking thoroughly ruined, a wicked smirk already curving his mouth.

“Oh… sorry,” I giggle softly, instantly embarrassed. “I can come back later.”

“What is it?” he asks, the smirk fading as concern sharpens his voice.

“It’s fine⁠—”

He grabs my wrist and hauls me inside before I can protest. Lucifer is sprawled near the fire, gloriously and offensively naked, his blood-red eyes lighting with delight the second he sees me.

“Gods above!” I shriek, slapping both hands over my eyes.

“Oh,” Lucifer drawls. “Not here for a threesome then?”

“I would rather be back in Kaelith’s dungeon,” I gag, peeking through my fingers at Maelkar.

“Ouch,” Maelkar gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like I’ve mortally wounded him.

“That was hurtful to both of us, really,” Lucifer adds. “And I’m wounded enough already thanks to the Shadowtongue.”

I groan into my palms. “Please, stop talking.”

“I have pants on now, you can look,” Lucifer adds with a laugh a second later.

I peek through my fingers to find him lounging against the mantle like a smug menace. “I’m sorry for interrupting. Aran’s grieving, so I didn’t want to bother him.”

Maelkar snorts. “It’s alright, I think I’ve satisfied L enough for tonight.”

“Seriously?” I groan louder.

Lucifer laughs, sauntering over to kiss Maelkar hard enough that I make a choking noise. He grins against Maelkar’s mouth before pulling away. “Consider the threesome, queenie.”

I shudder dramatically. “You’re both insufferable. I see why you make the perfect match.”