Page 11 of Touched By Death

“She’s just a girl,” he spits, then backhands me again when I bare my teeth at him. “Cut it out! I will not allow you to obsess over a female.”

“She’s not just a fucking female,” I growl, ignoring my burning cheek as I cut him a glare.

My father snorts, briefly splitting the air as he flexes his impressive wings before tucking them again. “You can wet your dick in any hole you want. What makes this angel so special?”

I know when to keep quiet.

“Interesting,” he muses, observing me closely and cutting me to my core with his probing gaze. “Maybe I should fuck her myself to see what the fuss is all about.”

My fight renews, and I wrench free from the guards, who jump back when my wings erupt in flames that spread across my shoulders and arms. “You stay the fuck away from her, Dad,” I sneer, stalking closer. “If you so much as lay a fucking finger on her, I will kill you!”

In my periphery, Ronan shakes his head no, but I don’t give a shit if I’m goading my father with my warning. Not when he’s encroaching on my territory and threatening to steal the girl I can’t get out of my fucking head.

Lucifer doesn’t attempt to school his amused smile. His eyes reflect the flames dancing tall on my wings and body. I’ve never lost control of my own hellfire like this before. “Are you challenging me, son? Are you sure that’s the card you want to play? I’m more powerful than you.”

“But I’m also your only son.” I shrug my shoulders carelessly, pretending to inspect the flames at my fingertips. My eyes flick up, and with a smirk to match his, I let the words sail through the air like silent arrows in battle. “The only heir to the throne. Unless, of course, you want to give it up to my uncle?”

My father’s smile falls, and he studies me while carefully weighing his options. We both know he needs me. “You’re marrying Dariana.”

Over my dead fucking body. I wet my lips before flapping my wings behind me to shrug off the flames. They fizzle out, embers glowing brightly at the tips of my feathers. I use my magic to put out the flames on my body. “You remind me every day.”

“Don’t get stupid ideas in your head, son. I don’t care how much you obsess over this girl; you’re betrothed to Dariana. She’s been promised to you since the moment of conception.”

Stalking past him and ignoring my friends, I bite out, “Nice talking to you too, Dad.”

“I’m serious!” His voice booms through the vast space, threatening to extinguish the flames on the walls as his magic flares.

Whirling on him, I point an accusing finger at his face. “So am I. There are no lengths I won’t travel to secure Aurelia as mine. I will kill every fucker who tries to stand in my way, and that includes you.”

Amusement trickles from his every pore as he throws his head back with a laugh. Behind him, the guards chuckle nervously, but soon stop when I glare at them all. “Son,” my father starts, schooling his features and taking leisured steps closer. His shoes clap on the marble flooring, and the firelight reflects off his raven feathers. There’s no denying the evil that resides in my father. The very blood that runs through my veins. “Do you know what your greatest weakness is? Besides the girl?” he adds as an afterthought.

With my hands fisted at my sides, I grind my teeth and fight the impulse to step back when he continues advancing. The stench of the hunt is thick in the air.

Not interested in a response, my father carries on. “You’re too impulsive.”

Movement behind me tenses my shoulders, but before I can react, a sack is placed over my head. My friends’ cries and grunts cut through the air as a scuffle breaks out.

“Take him down to the cellars. Don’t let him leave until he knows his place.”

* * *

My mouth is so dry that my lips have started to crack, and the deep lacerations on my face and arms sting like a motherfucking bitch. I can’t remember the last time I felt strong enough to lift my head. With my arms suspended from a hook in the ceiling, the chains dig into my crusted wrists. My toes barely touch the gritty ground, and coppery blood drips from the tip of my nose. My father’s guards have done a number on me since I was thrown down here and locked away. I’ve lost track of time. It no longer matters.

The light tapping of dripping water from somewhere behind me is the only sense of perception I can cling to.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

My father won’t kill me, but he’ll keep me here, beaten to within an inch of my life, to teach me a lesson in obedience. I brought it on myself when I showed my cards. I shouldn’t have exploded on him and warned him away from her.

Pain lances through my skull, causing me to wince as I imagine him seeking her out for his own cruel amusement. I’m too weak to conjure a flame. Too weak to do anything but wait.

A pitiful groan slips from my cracked lips.

Where’s Aurelia?

Even as the thought enters my head, I know the answer.

She’s with Amenadiel.

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