Page 50 of She Who Holds My Wrath

Aran’s gaze flicks between the two, confusion tightening into dawning horror as the pieces finally click into place. A deep frown settles across his face. “Of course,” he mutters darkly. “The two biggest assholes I know, are in a relationship.”

Lucifer straightens immediately. “Woah, woah. Let’s not put a label on things.” He raises his hands as though he’s personally offended by the concept of commitment.

I watch in utter amusement as Maelkar cocks his head to the side, one brow arching with theatrical precision. “Oh? So we’re not in a relationship?”

Something like a challenge glints in his eyes, and I can’t tear my gaze away as I watch them both. This is one hundred percent better than Love Island. Lucifer rises in one smooth predatory motion and saunters over to Maelkar’s chair, boots echoing softly against the stone floor. The room seems to lean towards him as he moves. I watch with bated breath as he stops in front of Maelkar and hooks two fingers into the collar of his coat, tugging him forwards just enough to invade his space.

“Don’t die,” he says lightly. But the casual tone doesn’t match the look in his crimson eyes.

All the sarcasm is gone. All the polished cruelty stripped away, leaving something raw and unguarded beneath. My heart flutters watching them both. Maelkar’s expression softens by a fraction, the smug amusement fading.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he murmurs, his shadows wafting around the pair of them.

Lucifer doesn’t offer another reply. Instead, he pulls him the rest of the way up and kisses him. It’s hard enough to make a statement, but slow and passionate enough to mean it. It’s bold, unapologetic, and a little scandalous. I swear I can feel myself blushing.

When he finally releases him, Lucifer’s hand lingers at Maelkar’s collar for a second longer than necessary, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle in a clear excuse to keep touching him.

“Good,” Lucifer murmurs, his voice back to its usual drawl, though it comes out a touch rougher than before. “Because I really can’t be arsed finding a replacement.”

Maelkar huffs a quiet laugh, eyes still locked on him. “Admit it. You’d miss me.”

Lucifer’s lip curls into a gleaming grin. “Immensely.”

He turns away before anyone can comment further, but not before I catch the faintest flush still lingering high on his cheekbones. Yep. Definitely a thing.

Velentha breaks the tension, fighting back a beaming smile. “Awwww.”

Aran scrunches his nose. “Unbelievable. This is my war room, not your bedroom.”

I stifle a laugh into the back of my hand as Lucifer smirks, plopping back down onto his seat and throwing his feet up onto the table. “Don’t be such a virgin, hound.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” I clear my throat, fighting back the laughter. “Logistics, please. The Særathi passage thingy.”

“Yes.” Velentha looks to me, still fighting her own grin. “I’ll open it to Aurora’s Veil using my blood, and Kaelith’s seal. Maelkar will go as your escort. Keep your anchor home safe. Do not lose it, or you will not be able to return. On the way back, when you open the path, Daisy, it will take from you.”

“How much?” Aran asks, trying his best to sound calm.

“Enough to make you dizzy. Maybe enough to drop you into another coma,” Velentha says honestly. “You’ll need to ensure your magic is replenished. Ration it.”

I nod, holding out the only item that seems to calm me these days. “Will my dagger work as an anchor? Korithax gave it to me.”

Velentha inspects it and nods. “Yes. It has Hell’s vibration.”

“I don’t like this,” Aran mumbles, gripping the back of his chair so tightly the wood creaks.

I ignore him, because I know I feel the same way. But I need to do it. Now, more than ever, I need to keep my allies. If one falls due to distrust, the rest will follow. And I need everyone. I need to defeat The Six. “Can you see anything?” I ask, looking towards Velentha. “Outcomes, hints?”

Velentha closes her eyes, and I notice Aran does too. The air seems to thin. Then she flinches at the same time as Aran, their eyes snapping open. “Something’s woven over it,” she mutters. “Like spun glass. The future is almost hazy. Someone’s braided a null-weave across the line. I can feel edges. Cold. Moonlight. But it slides.”

Aran shakes his head. “I get nothing except a headache.”

I narrow my gaze at him slowly. “You have the same gift as Velentha?”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before smirking. “Nowhere near as talented. But yes, I have the ability to see visions.”

Something hot and sharp twists in my chest. Of course he does. Of course there’s another thing he conveniently forgot to mention.

“Explains how you knew shit you shouldn’t.” I huff, the words coming out sharp. Irritation coils through me, thick and bitter. How many secrets has he been sitting on while smiling at me like everything was fine? How many decisions about my life were made with information I didn’t have?