Page 122 of An Unexpected Ascension
Devil, save me.
My gut clenches and then twists. My blood boils and pops. Fuck, my heart pounds until it pulses in the tips of my fingers and the ends of my toes.
I don’t miss Lucifer’s smirk at the way I look at the angel. Neither does she.
“What?” she finally speaks.
Her voice is hoarse from crying or lack of use perhaps, but it’s still somehow the best thing I’ve ever heard.
Is it always like this? Falling so fast, so hard?
Is love just a tower you climb and throw yourself off of hoping there’s no end?
Because that’s how it feels.
Lucifer shrugs. “Good to see you up and about, dear.”
“There’s no use laying around dwelling in your own trauma without any reprieve. Not like I can kill myself.”
So morbid, so bleak. So different than the angel who fought to stay in Heaven.
“Lynx and I were going to spar after breakfast, maybe you could take my place instead.”
My lungs expand with air – with hope.
Until those jade eyes narrow on me.
“It helps,” I add. “To take your mind off things. For the most part.”
“Fine,” she agrees, sipping at her coffee again.
“But you should eat something beforehand.”
I scoop some eggs onto her plate, along with some breakfast sausage to make sure she keeps up her energy.
“I don’t need you to feed me.”
“I know you don’t.”
It’s a lie, after the last couple days, I don’t trust her ability to take care of herself and if she would let me, I’d do it all for her. Except, I know she’d never admit she needs my help.
She doesn’t touch the plate. Not the entire time we finish breakfast. She rises without so much as another look at the food and makes her exit.
“Meet in the training room in an hour,” I call out to her back and am awarded with a thumbs up.
Good enough for me.
I stand at the edge of the training room, overlooking the lands of Hell. My skin burns beneath the black leather I wear from the hot red rays of the sun, but should I turn away and stare at the door, I know I’ll look too anxious.
When I hear her footsteps as she reaches that top step, I finally spin on my heels. She wears similar black leather, covering as much skin as possible. The tight fabric stretches over every curve, and I can’t fight the urge to drag my gaze down every bit of her.
If I didn’t know she’s only had a day’s training with her daggers, I’d think she may very well be as lethal as she looks.
I toss my sword near the wall.
“I don’t need you to go easy on me.” She bites, her fingers curling around the handles of her weapons to unsheathe them.
“Oh, I won’t. I just don’t need a sword to do that.”
