Page 7 of Lucifer's Redemption

“Thank you.” I gave her a tight-lipped smile. That smile brightened my mother’s face ten shades.

I would give her the world; I just couldn’t give her me.

“Luuuuciiiii!” Loki sang as he ran back into the room with a handful of whipped cream.

My fist tightened again, turning black and red instantly. Embers seared into the carpet as I watched the menace approach me.

“Loki! You do not call him that! That is my name to use! Now get over here so we can make you look presentable again!” Loki stood still, except for the handful of cream he got from some dessert on the buffet table. “And where is your nanny? Where did she go? What am I even paying her for?” Mother scolded.

Father closed his eyes and held back a smile. “Looks like Loki got another one. What is that now, fifteen?” Father chuckled.

“Seventeen.” Loki smiled proudly with s mouthful of cream.

Mother glowered at Loki with her hands on her hips. The red jewels sparkled around her black silk gown. Her body was perfectly shaped once again, even after having Lilith just yesterday. “Where did you get that whipped cream? You shouldn’t eat that! It is for our guests!”

“But it’s good! Nora might be mad though.” He licked the last bit off his thumb. “The pink frosting is the best!”

Father, still holding baby Lilith, lifted Loki in the air with one wave of his hand. Loki squeaked as he hung in the air. “Do you need to visit Tartarus?” Father’s eyebrow raised as he pointed at my troublemaker of a brother.

“N-no,” Loki choked out with a look of pure horror on his face.

My brother, the God of Mischief, hated the thought of torture. He was in for the play. He only killed the demon nannies because it was funny, and they could respawn in Father’s demon soul pool. The deaths he gave them were quick and merciful—if you could call it that.

“That’s enough of that, then.” Father put down Loki gently. “I expect the best behavior out of you while the Celestial Kingdom and your mother’s pack are here to witness the naming of the baby.” Hades wrapped Lilith tighter. She cooed, nuzzling her head right into the crook of Father’s arm.

“What about Lucifer? Aren’t you going to tell him not to kill anyone like he did last time?”

Counting to ten, I strode over to the window that overlooked the front palace gates, my hands blackening as I tried to calm the fire within me.

The years have become torturous trying to stay calm around Loki, his incessant jokes and prods only brought out the darkness.

“I’ve just about had it, Loki.” Mother slapped her hands to her thighs. “I know you crave attention because of the baby’s arrival, but this isn’t the way to go about it,” Mother snapped. “Now, I love you, and I will make sure we have a movie night, just the two of us really soon, okay?” Loki’s sniffs filled the room, and the fire in my hands weakened.

Father walked up to me, still carrying baby Lilith, and looked out over the front lawn as a few stragglers walked past the guards. His hand landed on my shoulder with a tight squeeze. “We are going to work this out. Even if you feel that strongly about being put down there, I will find a way to calm you. I believe the Fates are at least that kind.”

I continued to stare at the lawn; the hellhounds were nothing but overgrown puppies to our family but remained the most ferocious guard hounds any world has ever seen to everyone else. Several of them sat by the edge of the sidewalk, keeping the visitors off the grass. That was their territory: the beautiful landscape that Mother had loved since the first time Father granted her the beautiful gardens of the palace.

“I promise you this, Lucifer, and I have never broken a promise.” Lilith blew a raspberry with her mouth, having woken from her small nap in his arms. My eyes glanced towards her as her little, uncontrollable hand waved in the air.

How a soul so large inhabited such a tiny baby, I’ll never understand. However, there were many things the Fates allowed that no one, not even the gods, ever would.

“Let’s go. Your mother loves to show off her family.” Father smiled, thinking of his mate.

Turning to walk with him, I caught a glimpse of something pure white with hints of gold. By the time I had fully turned around, it was gone—in the blink of an eye.

“Coming, son?” My heart leaped in my chest. It had never done that before. Rubbing my chest thoroughly, I walked with Father down the lit hallway. The lights became brighter and brighter as we approached the now, heavily pink, decorated ballroom. The balcony that we had arrived at had two winding staircases that met the guests below, both adorned in white marble, gold trimmings, and hints of red and black to maintain Father’s traditional colors.

Mother stood at the forefront, smiling gratefully at the guests below. Loki stood under Mother’s right hand, which lay on his shoulder. Father was beside her as he wrapped one hand around her waist and the other around his daughter.

“You speak.” My father nudged her.

“This is the Underworld. Aren’t you in charge?” She giggled, holding in her laughter.

“Not since you have arrived, my love. Now, do the honors.” Father rolled his eyes. “We can always have them come another day. I know you are tired. They wouldn’t be disappointed,” he grumbled.

Father hated the spectacle, but with Mother having grown up in a werewolf pack, it was tradition to present the baby for all the wolves to admire.

“I’ll make it through.” Her sigh was heavy. The bags under her eyes were still visible, even the heavy amount of concealer could not hide her fatigue.

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