The red and black sky churned, acidic raindrops falling on the two of them.
"Lucifer, they're going to—"
They’re going to destroy you. Why did that thought squeeze her chest, her heart lodged in a vise grip?
He cut her off. "I know."
"You can't win."
"I know that, too."
"Then why?" she asked. "Why are you doing this?"
He took one more step toward her, his hands clasping the chains of her swing. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. After a moment, he let out a deep sigh and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly.
"I have to try," he murmured, "for you."
"Don't," she implored. "Enough already. Please."
Lucifer frowned as he pulled away from her. "You don't understand what you're asking. You want me to just go back to my cage? Then what? Huh?"
"Then things go back to normal."
Even Serah didn't believe those words as she spoke them, and Lucifer called her out on it. "Bullshit. What do you think is going to happen to you? Michael is going to want to punish someone. If I retreat, guess who's going to get the full force of his rage? You, angel. No one but you."
"It's okay," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm going to be punished, regardless. I'll die either way."
He narrowed his eyes. "How can you be so casual about that?"
"Death is nothing to fear," she said. "It's not the end. It's just another beginning."
"You're infuriating," he groaned. "Completely maddening."
Despite the situation, Serah smiled at that. She remembered a time not long ago she'd said those same things about him. What had changed?
"I think you're my apple," she said quietly. "I don't regret tasting you. I can't. You're not perfect by any means—there are sweeter out there, and you have a few rotten spots—but I'd never have found a juicer apple anywhere in the world."
He sighed, the sound heavy with defeat, but his expression remained unwavering. "I'm not going to tuck my tail and run like a little bitch. That's not how this story ends."
"It ends with you losing."
"I defied destiny once. Who says I can't do it again?" He turned to her, holding out his hand as her teeth started chattering, cold seeping into her bones. The rain was coming down harder, splattering Serah's dress. "Come on. Let’s get out of the rain."
She reached out and took his hand. The moment she grasped it, he pulled her to her feet, and the two of them apparated away from the playground. They popped up in the middle of a house nearby, quiet and still, not a fleck of light anywhere. Lucifer let go of her and snapped his fingers, a fireplace along the wall igniting briskly. The warm, orange glow from it illuminated the room. Serah glanced around, surveying the massive bed, covered in a light blue comforter.
"A bedroom?" she mused quietly, running her hand along the blanket, feeling the softness beneath her fingertips. "You’re not even going to buy me dinner first?"
"Nah, there’s no point," he said, his voice light, almost teasing. "You know, considering you already put out before the first date."
Her head snapped in his direction, her eyes narrowed as she shot daggers at him, but her annoyance couldn’t last. The moment she saw his expression—the dimpled smirk, the laugh lines around his eyes, startlingly bright blue at the moment—she melted with ease. "You’re awfully cocky."
He opened his mouth to respond instantly, laughter erupting instead. "No comment."
Rolling her eyes, Serah turned away from him, focusing back on the bed. The warmth from the fireplace lapped at her as she walked past, warming her, the goose bumps fading from her skin. "Why me?" she murmured. "Out of everyone in the world. . . "
"You’re fiery," Lucifer said. "You’re stubborn, and pushy, and exasperating."
"Those don’t sound like compliments."
"They are coming from me."
"Well, thank you," she said, pausing near him.
"You’re also brave," he said, stepping toward her. He ran his fingers through her hair, tucking some of it behind her ear. His fingertips trailed her jawline, running down her neck and along her collarbones. "You have the guts to stand here in front of me."
"You don’t scare me," she said. "You’re a bit of a jerk, and you’re completely selfish, and not to mention overconfident—"
"Thanks."
"Those aren’t compliments," she said. "But despite all of that, I know you won’t hurt me."
He smirked, leaning down, his lips near her ear as he whispered, "Now who’s being overconfident, angel?"
Serah shivered as he softly kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear, his lips trailing down her neck. He reached the junction between her neck and her shoulder and bit down, his teeth nipping at her soft flesh. A surprised yelp escaped her throat at the sudden sting, the pain heightening her senses. She ran her hands up his back, beneath his shirt, feeling his sculpted muscles and the slight bumps in his shoulder blades from his wings. His body shuddered as her fingernails gently scraped the skin.
Their lips met as Lucifer grabbed her thighs, pulling her legs up around his waist. Serah clung tightly to him, wrapped around him, as she fingered the soft hair around the nape of his neck. Soft groans rattled his chest as he set her on the bed, his mouth never leaving hers as he climbed on top of her.
They undressed slowly, painstakingly, in no rush to get anywhere, in no hurry for it to end. She lay back on the bed as Lucifer kissed and caressed every inch of her body, ravishing her, tasting her flesh. Her legs shook, her body quivering when his mouth found the apex between her thighs. She cried out his name, tightly grabbing handfuls of his hair as she arched her back. Tingling shot through her as pressure built inside of her, starting at her chest and trickling down to her toes. She squeezed her eyes shut, getting lost in the sensation, as it mounted and mounted, stealing her breath away. Her body warmed, growing hotter and hotter, until she felt like she would burst into a million tiny pieces. His tongue, soft and wet, gentle while frantic, was driving her closer and closer to absolute insanity.
She fisted the bed sheets, unable to take the pressure, her eyes opening as she neared explosion. Her breath caught, a scream lodged in her throat when she looked down at her naked body. Her skin burned bright orange, as radiant and glowing as the sun. The sight of it caught her off guard, shock ramming those sensations back down inside of her. She shoved away from Lucifer and sat up, curling into herself as she stared at him, wide-eyed. "What was that?"
He raised his eyebrows, his expression twitching with amusement. "I believe your mortals call that oral sex."
"I know that," she spat. "I know what cunnilingus is. I meant the glowing."
Lucifer chuckled, grabbing ahold of her legs and pulling her toward him again. Her skin was back to a normal hue, a slight pink flush tinting it. "That was you letting go," he said, hovering over her. He leaned down, chastely kissing her lips. "Felt good, didn’t it?"
She smiled sheepishly. It did.
He kissed her neck, nipping at her skin as he nudged her legs apart. With no hesitation, no trepidation, he slid inside of her, the two of them coming together sinuously like they’d always belonged that way. It was different this time, more sensual, more seductive, less hurried and rash. Each stroke was deliberate, each breath measured, each moan and grunt and pant steady. They’d lost themselves in abandon last time, drowning in the shallow waters of lust, while they floated in something much, much deeper now.
Forbidden love.
Hours faded away in a steamy haze, words mumbled by kisses, cries muffled by flesh, as orgasm after orgasm rocked the lovers. Lucifer came to a stop eventually, stilling inside of her, as she breathed heavily against his chest. The flames still raged in the fireplace, but the room had grown significantly darker as time passed. The world outside was being battered by storms, torrential rain slamming against the roof as the sky grew redder, spreading like blood spilling out and seeping into a wooden floor.
<
br /> "I have to go," Lucifer whispered, kissing her chest.
"Don’t."
"I have to," he said. "It’s almost time."
He pulled out of her, sitting back on his knees briefly, his eyes trailing over her naked body slowly, consciously. By the time they reached Serah’s again, the blue had disappeared, the darkness creeping back into his soul.
Serah climbed to her feet, redressing, and slowly strolled over to the window to gaze out.
"Come with me," Lucifer said, standing behind her. "Fight with me."
"I can’t," she said. "I can fight no more than you can stop."
"Why?" he pressed, desperation twining with his voice.
"Because it’s not in me," she said. "I still believe. I still have hope for the world, and for everyone and everything in it. I look out the window, and instead of ugliness—instead of darkness—I see the yellow dandelions growing once more from the crack in the concrete down the street."
"But these people . . . these mortals. . ."
"I’ve spent my entire existence watching over children, trying to keep the evil from tainting them. I look at the kids and see their inherent goodness, their innocence, and their compassion. They’re born that way. They only change, only turn their backs on the world, when the world turns their back on them." She turned around, facing him. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his lips. "I see beauty and goodness in everything—even you, Luce. And as long as that’s there, I can never turn away from it."
Luce stood high atop the Eilat Mountains in Israel. The sandstone beneath his feet had changed since the last time he’d stepped foot in this region, the brittle yellowish-brown morphing to a macabre darkness, flowing down the side of the mountain like someone had spilled a bucket of black paint.
In the distance he could see the Red Sea, simmering a bright crimson in the night as the blood of thousands spilled across the land and seeped into the water, staining it. Angels and demons battled viciously along the foothills of the mountain and out toward the coastline, each sent for contradictory purposes.
The demons, released to destroy humanity. The angels, sworn to defend it.
Through the chaos, there was little time for the angels to focus on finding Luce, momentarily giving him the upper hand. He watched from afar, biding his time as he basked in the delight of Hell finally reigning on Earth.
Luce thus far had managed to stay two steps in front of his brother, but it was only a matter of time before Michael caught up to him. It was a confrontation Luce had been waiting for forever, it seemed. And this time, he swore, Michael wouldn't get the best of him. He had been infested with pride at their first encounter and underestimated his brother’s strength and their Father’s sheer determination. That wouldn't happen again. For now he was filled with something much more powerful—something deeper, more compelling: hatred.
The only thing the dark angel had thought about more than himself and his own egotistical, materialistic wishes over the years was getting revenge on his brother. He’d cast him into the lake of fire, trapping him in the pit for eternity, without so much as showing an ounce of distress.
So even if it was the last thing he did, he was going to distress Michael, one way or another.
"My Lord. . ."
Luce didn’t turn around at the sound of Lire’s voice. His eyes remained intently focused on the battle before him. His minions were no match for the angels—except for a few heavenly weapons they’d managed to steal and smuggle out over the years, the angels were invincible to the demon’s touch. Only Luce held the power to massacre their kind, but that wasn’t his goal. He only wanted to destroy one, and by destroying that one, he hoped the rest would fall down like dominoes.
A house is only as sturdy as its foundation.
"My Lord, they’re getting close. . ."
He could sense it as the angels flooded the area, trying to protect the sacred land and clean up the mess. It had only been a little over a week since his escape and the world was already in chaos, seals popped open one by one, unleashing anarchy on God’s soil. The horsemen had been let loose from their cages, bringing mass destruction everywhere they touched.
"My Lord, please. You must leave before it’s—"
Too late.
A violent lightning bolt struck the mountain, crumbling parts of it around Luce’s feet. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move an inch as the demon was cut off in the middle of his sentence, a sickening gurgling echoing from his throat. The putrid scent instantly infiltrated his body, so concentrated in the air around him that Luce’s face contorted. Slowly, he turned around, his crimson eyes meeting Michael’s sky blues. The sword of fire cast a sweltering glow upon Luce’s face as his brother held it, Lire impaled on the end of it.
Eyes never leaving Luce, Michael thrust his sword back out of the demon, sending him vanishing in an explosion of fire and black smoke. He shifted his body then, pointing the sword at Luce. "Satan."
"Prince." Luce tipped his head casually in greeting. "What’s it been? Six thousand, seven thousand years?"
"Not long enough."
"I’ve missed you, too, little brother."
Michael stepped forward, the tip of the sword a mere few inches from Luce's chest. "I’m no brother of yours."
"You’re welcome to think that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are."
In the blink of an eye, Michael thrust his sword forward to impale Luce, but he wasn’t fast enough. Luce dodged to the side, grabbing ahold of his brother’s arm and the hilt of the sword, violently pulling him forward. He threw Michael right off the side of the mountain, not hesitating a moment before jumping off behind him. Michael’s wings expanded, catching himself mid-air, but Luce struck him before he could fly. The force of the collision sent both angels plummeting toward the ground, struggling for control. Michael wielded the sword, trying to pierce Luce with the fiery blade, but Luce’s strength matched his. Rage simmered underneath his skin, pure adrenaline pumping through, mixing with the twinge of blood in his system and fueling him on. He fought with all he had, grabbing and clawing, striking and shoving, trying to get his hands on the Heavenly sword.
The two smacked the ground hard, the earth giving way beneath them. Angels and demons alike, caught in the midst of battle, plummeted into a canyon created from the force of the blow. Water from the Red Sea rushed forth, filling it, the red filth coating them. The flames of the sword extinguished momentarily, reigniting as Michael pulled away from Luce and held it up, a lightning bolt striking it from the sky.
"Give up," Michael spat. "Go to Hell."
A slow smile spread across Luce’s lips. "I’m still there. I just brought it to you."
Michael lunged for him, the two of them plunging underwater, struggling for control again. Luce pulled out his gold knife and thrust it at Michael, slicing at his clothes, but he couldn’t break his skin. Round and round they went, engulfed in a test of will and strength. As soon as one would get the upper hand—the chance to plunge their blade into the other’s chest, to annihilate the life force inside of them—the other would get a burst of strength and overpower them.
Equally matched in skill, equally driven by motivation.
A battle that lasted mere hours the first time—a battle between two brothers, two Archangels: one dark, one light—continued nonstop for days. There was no end in sight, no sign of either letting up, as the bigger battle continued to wage around them. Countless humans were slaughtered, some by demons, others by the angels themselves as they purged the evil spirits from bodies by physical force. Through it all, Luce’s power thrived, every innocent casualty sparking something inside of him, the monster rising up and taking control.
Michael shoved away from Luce eventually, throwing him yards away and into another angel. The angel tried to get his hands on Luce, but he thrust his gold knife into him before he could. A vast explosion went off as Grace erupted from his chest, briefly swaddling Luce like a blanket.
He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. Oh, how he loved that feeling. . .
"I exorcise thee, O Creature of Water, by Him Who hath created thee. . ."
Luce’s eyes shot open, seeking out Michael instantly. "Holy Water? Really?"
". . .and gathered thee together into one place so that the dry land appeared, that thou uncover all the deceits of the Enemy, and that thou cast out from thee all the impurities. . ."
"It’s not going to work," Luce spat. "In case you haven’t noticed, Prince, your sea is poisoned with blood. It’s water no more."
Michael stopped his blessing. He held his free hand on the surface of the water, a glow emanating from him and spreading through the sea around him. The murky red faded, clearing to a crystal blue.
A bitter laughter tore from Luce’s chest. He narrowed his eyes, anger rushing from him. The sea around him stirred and started bubbling, thickening and boiling as steam rose into the sky. As soon as Michael purified a portion, Luce turned it right back to contaminated sludge.
"You took it all from me," Luce seethed. "So now, I take it all from you. Your land, your sea, your humans . . . your lover."
For the first time in his existence, Michael’s eyes clouded with rage, darkening like dripping ink. Luce stood tall, raising his eyebrows in challenge as he smirked tauntingly.
Game on, motherfucker.
He waited for his brother to attack again, to be overcome with wrath and succumb to the vengeful, overpowering sin, but his eyes lightened again almost immediately.
Before he could say another thing, Michael vanished from sight.
Startled, Luce stared at the empty water in front of him, straining to feel Michael in the atmosphere. It was faint, but he could sense his brother far away, still Earthbound.
Luce immediately followed. As soon as he materialized in front of Michael, Michael vanished again in a crack of electricity. Luce continued to follow, stalking him from place to place, barely getting a view of him before he zapped someplace else. Confusion ran through Luce as he tried to make sense of his brother’s seemingly cowardly act—running from the enemy, avoiding confrontation—when he popped up somewhere that answered it all.
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