Page 68 of She Who Holds My Wrath

She gives him a look. “Then it’s a good thing I’m excellent at navigating the dark.”

“Velentha,” I begin again, trying to hide the wobble in my voice. “What if it doesn’t open on the other side? What if⁠—”

“Then I’ll make it open.” She kneels, her hand pressing once more to the glowing runes. “The leyline will remain our tether. If I lose my way, I’ll trace this pulse back to you.”

Lucifer’s expression softens, though his tone stays dry. “You gods really do have a flair for dramatics.”

“I learned from the best,” she says, glancing at me with a faint smile.

That smile kills me. It’s small, brave, and filled with all the things she doesn’t have time to say.

She leans in, placing her palm at the back of my neck to pull me down to her so she can touch her forehead to mine. “Aeshira,” she whispers, “keep the leyline alive with Lucifer. If it fades, I won’t be able to find my way back.”

My throat feels raw. “I’ll keep it pulsing until it kills me.”

“I know.”

She pulls her hood up, the glow of her magic flickering faintly as she turns towards the mouth of the cavern. Her form blurs at the edges, veiled in shadow.

“Velentha, do you have your anchor?”

She looks back once, her silver eyes catching the light as she holds up a small vial that holds soulfire. “I’m going to bring her home.”

And then she’s gone. Her silhouette swallowed by the dark tunnel, her familiar aura fading like mist. The leyline hums softly underfoot, its veins pulsing with dim light.

Now

Two days.

Two fucking days.

I haven’t moved from this spot except to piss in the corner like an animal. The leyline sits there—still, mocking me with its quiet pulse that never changes.

Lucifer’s footsteps echo from behind me. “You look like shit,” he announces, setting down a sack that smells suspiciously like fried food and meats.

“Don’t care,” I mutter.

“You should,” he says, plopping down beside me with infuriating nonchalance. “I brought you food. And liquor. But if you glare at me like that again, I’ll shove it up your ass instead.”

I ignore him. The leyline’s veins glimmer faintly in the dark, taunting me. “She should have opened it by now.”

“She’ll open it when she can,” he replies, biting into a piece of bread. “You ever considered maybe your wife’s busy not dying?”

“Lucifer—”

“No, seriously,” he interrupts, gesturing with his half-eaten food. “You’ve been sitting here for forty-eight hours, talking to a glowing floor like it’s going to start talking back. At some point, even obsessive love needs a break to sort out their hygiene.”

My jaw tightens. “If you’ve come here to be an asshole⁠—”

“I’ve come here,” he says sharply, “because I know what it’s like to wait for someone you love who might never come back.”

That silences me.

Lucifer tosses the bread aside, dusting off his hands. “Don’t forget, Aran. My boyfriend’s stuck on the other side, too. Maelkar’s not exactly easy to kill, but he’s not invincible either. So yeah, I’m worried. You’re not the only one bleeding out anxiety.”

The words hit harder than I want to admit. I drag my hands down my face and sigh. “I can’t just… sit here and do nothing.”

He snorts. “That’s funny, because that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.”