Page 115 of Touched By Darkness

I swear Lucifer can see my hard nipples through the thin towel.

“Rumors spread fast in Hell.” His deep voice oozes with erotic danger as it wraps around my throat, adding bruises to Daemon’s necklace.

“Rumors?” I ask carefully.

“Don’t play dumb,” he says, reaching out to drag his thumb over my lips. His hand falls away, the back brushing against his leg. His fingers rub together, over and over. A twisted ritual, I can’t help but notice.

“It all feels too convenient to me.” He circles me slowly. “My son traveled to Ireland, and you stabbed him.”

“I didn—”

“You blamed it on a stalker. Daemon was too injured and too out of it, and now his memories of that night are warped, because of the lies you spun.”

“I didn’t lie—”

Lucifer won’t let me finish. “Maybe you didn’t mean to stab him. Maybe the darkness in you finally claimed you as its own, and when you came to, it was easier to make up a story, hmm?”

My lip trembles, but I stay silent, knowing he’ll twist my words if I try to defend myself.

“You forget one vital thing,Aurelia.I am Lucifer. The original.” He cups my chin and brings my glassy eyes brimming with tears to his. “I am the Devil. If anyone knows darkness, it’s me. I invented it, remember? Twisted and shaped it with my own bare hands while God turned his back in disgust.” His grip on my chin tightens in warning. “I know how the darkness eats you alive, threatening to obliterate the last remnants of your soul. No matter the colors of your wings, hair, or skin, you were born of the light, and of the light, you shall remain, whether the glass is half empty or echoingly hollow. The only problem with a hollow glass is that it can be filled with other things. Less pleasant things.” His thumb is back to brushing rhythmically over my lips. “And now there’s no light left to overflow or counteract the potency of the darkness that pours in over the rim like a thick mist. Your soul is left to drown a slow death.”

My heart thuds painfully in my chest. I don’t dare look away from the promise of pain in his dark gaze.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll lose yourself completely. I’m sure you can understand why I can’t let that happen. My son has developed an unhealthy obsession with you, and while the easiest solution to my problem would be to kill you, it’s not the wisest. My son is a lot like me when I was his age—hot-tempered, fiercely loyal, and possessive. If I hurt you now, I’d cause a rift that I would rather avoid. So I’ll let him play.” He fingers a strand of my drying hair. “He’ll soon grow bored of your golden cunt, and when that day comes, you better run, little angel, because I will slaughter you before you can bewitch my son a second time. From now on, I’ll have eyes on you at all times. If you hurt my son, I’ll make you wish for death, understood?”

When I stay silent, Lucifer jostles my chin.

“Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” I bite out.

“Good.” He releases me and reaches out to grab hold of the flap of my towel. With a sharp pull, it falls away, baring my naked body to his cold, cruel eyes. He takes in the faint bruises on my skin and the bite marks. Every imperfection caused by his son’s savage passion.

Marks, which I usually wear with pride, but now wish I could cover. The way he looks at me squeezes my heart painfully, as though I’m the dirt beneath his shoe and an insect he needs to squash. I don’t want to admit to myself how much I crave his acceptance. He’s Daemon’s father, and despite their strained relationship, a small part of Daemon still looks up to the man in front of me.

“Like I said,” he drawls, reaching out to pinch my nipple, but I step out of reach, “my son will soon grow bored.”

Lucifer then smiles the kind of smile that disarms me for a second because it’s so deceptively warm. He’s an expert at disguises, camouflaging himself behind the masks he wears to the outside world. But I see the evil lurking behind.

It whispers to me like the fanged trees in the woods.

“I’ll see you again soon,Aurelia.”He enunciates each syllable in my name like it’s my body. The words on his tongue are his skilled touch that travels over the plane of my flesh in a bid to wring it dry of pleasure.

An involuntary shiver runs down my spine and spreads out in tingles that settle in places they shouldn’t.

My thighs squeeze together as heat crawls up my neck.

Lucifer is the ultimate alpha in this place of depravity. We’re not wolves, but my body still responds to the command in his gaze and the danger in his voice.

With a simple look, he could bring me to my knees. He chooses not to wield that power, but revels in it as he watches my skin flush.

And then he walks out with a final smirk, leaving me to catch my breath while his threats linger in the air, along with his masculine, primal scent.

* * *

I slam the front door shut, making no secret of my arrival. I couldn’t if I tried, not when I’m this angry. “Amenadiel!”

He enters the dim hallway, dressed in slacks and a black button-down. His tie has been loosened and his sleeves folded up to reveal his tanned forearms.

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