Page 41 of Letters to Satan

“Helping?” I repeat, my gaze shooting back up to the demons, half of which appear sheepish and the other half who might be questioning their life choices that brought them here.

Damien rises, but only to his knees, not taking his eyes off me. “When you said you wouldn’t make your deadlines for Christmas, I… I knew I had to do something. They’re all here for me, and they’ll stay until everything is done.”

The rest of my power fizzles out as I focus every razor-edged ounce of my hatred towards the man at my feet. “And what do you gain from this?”

Cautiously, he stands and pulls his lip between his teeth, grabbing on to my shirt and tugging me closer to him. I relent, but only a few inches, eyes still narrowed as I try to figure out his next move.

“I get to say this to you… I’m sorry for the pain you suffered at my hand. For every terrible decision I have made since I arrived here to meet you, and for every moment I spent working against you for my own amusement. But most of all? I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that all those icky, tangled feelings were just... me falling in love with you.”

Shock has me jerking back, and once again, hurt flashes across his eyes. But he’s shown me who he is already, and I can’t possibly believe this.

Can I?

“The Lucifer is incapable of love,” I say, keeping my voice as emotionless as possible.

“Well,” he says, placing his palms flat on my chest and giving me those soft, doe eyes that got me into this mess to begin with. “It’s a good thing I’m no longer The Lucifer.”

Chapter 14

Damien

Confusion is soon replaced by disbelief, and finally, the last bit of his stifling power evaporates, and the restrictive vise on my lungs is loosened. My age, coupled with centuries of honed skills, makes me an incredibly powerful demon, even without the magic of The Lucifer behind me.

But here, in his domain?

He reigns supreme.

The raw energy that had been coursing from him was as intoxicating as it was all-encompassing. It was warm magic, sparking like tiny electric currents across the top layer of my skin, while tellingme in no uncertain terms that he was comfortable holding his place at the zenith of the food chain.

He’s the alpha, and I’d be a fool not to submit to his rule. Even at my peak power, I doubt I could’ve bested him in a direct confrontation.

“What?” he breathes, eyes searching mine. The anger is still there, raw and untamed, the distrust evident, but a flicker of curiosity peeks through the facade, offering me the tiniest glimmer of hope.

“Can we…” I push up on my toes again, trying to close the distance between us, but he doesn’t give me an inch. My fist closes around his shirt, and I wrestle him closer, staring into those stony eyes, before I relent and press my lips to his, but they’re stiff and unmoving.

Disappointment chokes me as I drop to my feet and awkwardly chew on my bottom lip, trying to read his expressionless face. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” His jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth, and I swallow past the emotion in my throat. “Give me a chance to explain, and if you… if you still want me to leave, I will. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back, but I’m begging you to hear me out.”

His gaze flicks up to the room full of demons, not a single one trying to hide their intrigued staring. “And them?”

“Xalreth and Cadbury can make sure everyone stays on task.” His eyes dart over to the corner, another flare of surprise when he sees his number two and mine—well, the demon whousedto bemine—standing together amiably, planning the logistics of the workshop. “Nik, please.”

Our eyes lock again, holding each other captive in a silent battle of wills. The seconds stretch into an eternity, until a curt nod, a mere flick of his head, breaks the spell. With a sharp turn, he walks towards his office, leaving me standing there, the sting of his indifference hitting like a slap. Xalreth finds me as I gesture at the hallway to let him know where I’ll be, then hurry after Niklaus.

Orange flames flicker shadows across his imposing form as he sits, fingers steepled in front of him, and I take a minute to soak in his appearance. Dark bags hang under his normally bright green eyes, dull with exhaustion and missing their usual fire. His beard is scruffy, and his hair is wild, like his hands have pushed through it enough to almost make it stand on end.

Guilt claws at me, its tiny teeth sinking into my gut with each accusing glance from his piercing eyes.

He was mine to have, mine to hold on to… until I took it a step too far.

Still, despite how battered he looks, there’s an aura of undeniable power that makes him appear invincible. Like he could be cracked and bent, but never broken. Never diminished or destroyed.

Not like me.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

Palms sweating and pulse racing, I meet his eyes and take a steeling breath before I lay it all out on the line. “My arrival here was driven by nothingmore than sheer boredom and a thirst for something new. Life had turned monotonous, and when another of those candy-striped letters landed on my desk, it was… a convenient distraction.”

“A distraction,” he repeats, his voice flat and emotionless, and I nod, barely able to meet his eyes.

---