Page 149 of Wicked Believer
But I got a little of both.
“And Michael? Lilith?” I ask.
“Michael knows, or more likely suspects, that you’re equally as capable of opening the seals as I am. Once Azrael trains you, if we canconvince my brother that you want the apocalypse as much as I do, that you’re acting on my orders, then—”
“Then he won’t see either of us coming.” I try to tamp down the fear that sparks in me. I can’t fall apart every time he confides in me. Not if I want him to continue to treat me like an equal moving forward. The equal he’s helped make me.
That was his plan all along, it seems.
To lift me up. Push me beyond my current limits until I ...
Recognized my own power.
Just like he does every time we’re alone in the playroom.
“One last thing before the doctor gets here.” A feeling of certainty expands inside my chest, making my breathing easier, more confident. “I’m having brunch with your siblings soon. I’ll explain why later, but if we’re going to do this, we need to be fully honest with one another moving forward, to trust each other completely. I understand why you weren’t, but I need to know that you’ll always be honest with me, Lucifer.” I meet his gaze head-on. “If you love me, if you truly love me, I need you to trust me, to believe in me.”
“I trust you, Charlotte. I was just waiting for you to trust in you too.”
I smile. “And you still want to be my husband? My king? Even if that requires full transparency?”
He smirks like he can already see where this is heading, wicked strategist and master manipulator that he is. “Of course, little dove.”
“Good.” I smile as I turn on my new Prada heels, my head held high, and stalk out of the room. “Then start acting like it, husband.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Charlotte
Iam the reason the devil’s feeling nervous today. It’s a meme of me someone left on my social media, and after the other night, it’s become my new mantra.
I punch into one of Azrael’s outstretched hands, the kickboxing glove he’s wearing catching the brunt of my hit. “You’re still weak,” he grumbles. “But you’re fired up today.”
I’m surprised he’s making conversation with me.
Azrael’s more of a silent observer.
And I’m sure he’s been following me everywhere I go lately. I’m about to tell him as much when the door to the training room opens and—
“May I join you?”
The unexpected voice comes from behind us. Like, somehow, I conjured him out of a dream. I turn to find Lucifer in a loose-fitting T-shirt and ...
“Are you wearingsweatpants?” My jaw drops.
I’ve never seen him in anythingotherthan a suit. Or naked, anyway.
But he’s been resting and recovering the past few days.
“They’re Gucci,” he says defensively, “and I have to work out in something.” He smirks, but it’s tentative, like he’s testing the waters after all we shared the other night.
I glance over my shoulder to Azrael. “What do you say, Daddy Death?”
Azrael makes a feral grumbling sound just as Lucifer lets out an unabashed snort, failing to contain his laughter.
“Daddy Death, is it?” He cackles just as Azrael snarls, “The fuck you call me?”
I don’t feel even a hint of embarrassment.
