Page 103 of All's Hell That Ends Well

He turned to stare out over his estate again, the distant lightning overhead illuminating the harshly beautiful planes of his face. “The past few weeks,” he began, “have been interesting, to say the least. I’ve had ample time and opportunity to think.” He angled his head, the wind whipping at his silky black hair. “About many things, most of which have been forged and hardened by time and hurt and anger into a mold that seemed unchangeable. I’ve been holding on to that mold for the longest time, until it became part of my identity. A core belief.”

“But?” I asked quietly, watching him intently.

“I have seen a different side of him in the past couple of weeks, one that he’d never shown me before.” He shook his head, his gaze still fastened on some faraway point. “He’s been treating me the way I’d always wanted him to back when I’d been a youth at his court. I never thought I’d hear an apology from him, that I’d see genuine remorse in his eyes. To have him turn to me for assistance because he values my capabilities and considers me competent, that did something to me.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, my chest tight. “It doesn’t make up for all of it, though. Does it? He can’t just flip a switch and think it’ll erase what he did to you.”

“I don’t think he thinks that.” Jaw tight, he tracked the flight path of an incoming demon. “And no, it’s not enough in terms of amends. But it’s a start.” He was silent for a moment, the muscles in his shoulders and arms bulging as he braced his hands on the parapet on either side of his hips. “And I recentlylearned,” he continued, his voice rough, “that nothing tastes as bitter as the regret over a lost chance at reconciliation.”

I twitched, knowing exactly what he referred to—the death of his father, Azrael. Just when the option of rebuilding that burned bridge had appeared, just when Azrael had revealed that he did indeed still care about Azazel and had been trying to make amends, he’d been killed. And with his death, all hope of reconciliation had vanished, slipping through Azazel’s fingers like fine sand before he could grasp it.

“After thousands of years,” he went on, his fingers digging into the stone, “my father had a change of heart, wanted to make amends and rebuild what he’d broken. Only, his efforts were cut short. And I never got to make that change of heart for myself, not until after he’d died. And now I cannot rebuild anything from my side. I cannot work with him to navigate a new relationship beyond the hurt and the anger. All I can do is grieve him—and what we could have had.” He faced me then, his eyes glowing silver, such deep, deep pain in their depths. “I will not squander the chance at salvaging another broken relationship when it now presents itself. I do not want to add to the mountain of regrets should this opportunity, too, be cut short.”

My breath hitching, I grabbed his hand and squeezed, emotion welling inside me.

“I could linger in my calcified anger and hatred for him,” Azazel said quietly. “And then what would that do for me? How would that help?” He turned his hand over and properly grasped mine in return. “No. I choose to change. Lucifer wants to right his past wrongs? I welcome his efforts. Let him work for it. Sins such as his will not be atoned for in a day. But we’re immortal; we have nothing but time and patience for redemption.” His expression was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen on him. “And I choose to give him the time to prove his sincerity.”

“My God,” I murmured. “I love you.”

Leaning in for a kiss, driven by the violent surge of affection for this remarkable male that was mine, allmine, I ended up smacking air instead of his lips. Stupefied, I blinked at him. He’d leaned back just far enough to evade my kiss, pinning me with a stern look—but for the glint in his eyes.

“Who?” he asked with the slightest growl.

Huffing a laugh under my breath, I hung my head for a second, then peered up at him and fluttered my lashes. “My marvelous, gloriousAzazel,” I crooned. “I love you.”

His smile was like the first glimmer of dawn, and then his hand was around the nape of my neck and he pulled me to him with just the right amount of dominance to make my insides melt. Our mouths met in a kiss that was slow and sensual and full of devotion, the kind that stopped the world and threatened to make me forget not only what we’d just talked about, but my name to boot.

So, when he pulled back eventually and murmured, “Why?” against my lips, I struggled to remember what he was referring to.

My expression must have spoken volumes, because Azazel cocked a half grin and elaborated, “What brought about this sudden burst of love for me? My not wanting to strangle my grandfather anymore?”

Smiling, I shook my head. “First of all, my love for you is always there, but sometimes I feel the need to express it more than at other times. And second, it’s because you’re incredibly mature. And vulnerable, yet willing to share it with me. You have this inner strength, you’re not afraid to grow and change, you reflect on yourself and on others, and then you make decisions that are so well thought through. You’re willing to listen and to adjust your stance based on what you learn. And you’re open with me about all of it. You’re an amazing male, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner. A better mate.” I grasped his hand andkissed his palm. “And I will keep telling you I love you at the most random times, because you deserve to hear it. You deserve to be reminded of it often and loudly.”

What swept over from him through the bond was so violently breathtaking, so bone-shatteringly strong in its affection, it made me sway even while sitting down. Eyes of storms held me spellbound while the hand I was grasping moved to gently, oh-so-gently, wrap around my throat in a sensual caress, and he leaned forward until our foreheads touched.

“If what he felt for Lilith,” he whispered, his power stroking over mine, “is even but a fraction of what you mean to me, then I shall never fault him for wanting to lay waste to Earth in revenge for her death. For should I ever lose you, I’d tear the worlds apart in my grief. There would be no life without you in it.”

“Azazel.” I speared my fingers into his silken hair, folding my wings to wrap around us both. “You could just say, ‘I love you, too.’ No need to threaten cosmic devastation on my behalf.”

He lifted his chin and regarded me out of half-lidded eyes, the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Nah,” he said after a moment. “What kind of demon male would I be if I didn’t woo my beloved with darkly poetic promises of violence in her name?”

I laughed softly and went to straddle him, when Azazel tensed and whipped his head to the side. I followed his gaze to where a demon approached us in a landing maneuver. I didn’t recognize this female, though that didn’t mean much, seeing as Azazel now commanded such a vast number of demons that I had no hope of keeping up.

Azazel, however, didn’t act like he did with messengers from among his own people. Holding himself with a lot more formality, he rose to greet the demon, putting himself subtly in front of me.

The female touched down on the tower roof and immediately went down on one knee. “Your Highness,” she said with her head bowed. “I bring a message from His Grace.”

I stiffened. Azazel held out his hand, and the demon laid an envelope in his palm, then retreated with a bow.

“Dismissed,” Azazel told her.

“Your Highness,” the female said, then sketched a deep bow to me as well. “My lady.”

The messenger turned and took off from the tower again, flying back the way she’d come.

Azazel had meanwhile opened the letter and read it.

“What is it?” I asked, rising on tiptoes to peer at the note.

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