Page 2 of Wings of Sacrifice
I laughed, enjoying his playfulness. It wasn’t until he seated himself against me that I realized he had no pants on. I grasped his arms in a death grip, stopping him from entering me. If we did this, that was it. There was no going back or changing my choices.
He paused. “Sara?”
Oh, Heavenly—if I went through with this, he could never know. This truly would be our last night together, and he could never suspect.
I knew he loved me, but it would never be enough. He would never turn me in for what I was about to do, but he would do everything in his power to stop me, if only to keep me safe. Miriam said as much.
I released his arms, grabbed his face, and kissed him like it would be the last time we’d ever have this. Because it would be. He kissed me back with just as much force, groaning into my mouth. When he thrust into me, we both moaned. I loved the way he filled me, the way his mouth refused to leave my skin. He nipped and licked my nipples and everyinch of skin he could reach, like he was searing the memory of his mouth into my mind forever. When we came together—his seed filling me, my body clenching around him—my soul sang, but my mind grieved.
“You will always be mine, Saraqael. No matter what they did to us. No matter the marriage between Lilith and me.” He pulled back and gazed into my eyes with such tender love. “You are my eternal star.”
“Brilliant, radiant, and forever,” I finished, keeping my tears at bay.
Lucifer smiled in answer, then found the clasp to my lingerie and painstakingly undressed me, pressing kisses to every one of my scars until his mouth found my core. The next few hours of our lovemaking passed too quickly.
When we were both exhausted, satiated, and happy, he drew me into his arms like every night I stayed with him. I allowed myself a few minutes, basking in his warmth and strength, before I pulled away. I refused to look at him.
“Lucifer.”
“Yes, my eternal star?”
His words felt like a punch to the gut, but I had to continue.
I picked up my shirt from the floor and started to dress. “I can’t do this anymore.” My voice broke.
He framed my face and forced me to look him in the eye. The physical touch made it harder to think of the words I needed, but it helped me use my powers to manipulate his emotions.
“You need to be very clear with me, Sara. We both agreed to this, as bad as it is. I know you love me, so please explain this change of heart.”
As an empath, sensing emotions came naturally. Manipulating them was another matter entirely, especially when it came to powerful beings. Currently, Lucifer held no anger toward me. Only fear, sorrow, and confusion.
Which meant I had to do better.
“I can’t be with you once a year anymore. It’s not enough for me.” That was true. “It’s not a relationship. I’m sick of it.” Also true.
“I know, my?—”
“I’m choosing Michael.”
Lucifer jolted, and the icy rings around his irisesflashed. It was as horrible as I imagined—not just the hurt in his eyes, but feeling his heartbreak alongside my own.
Underneath the pain was a tiny seed of anger, born of jealousy and possession. As he touched me, I sent a trickle of energy toward the emotion, feeding it to create the fight I wanted. But I fed it slowly enough that he’d never know I influenced him.
“You don’t love Michael.”
I raised a brow and grabbed my pants from the red-and-black rug. “How would you know? You see me once a year. I’ve grown fond of Michael.”
Lucifer had been placed in Hell before he ever met his replacement, so he didn’t know what a despicable angel Michael was—or how power-hungry and jealous he could become.
“I don’t believe you.”
He didn’t entirely. But the growing fear I sensed meant he believed it a little.
I nudged that fear, feeding it along with his anger.
“You can’t please me anymore, Lucifer. These nights have been nice. But it’s nicer with Michael, and I can spend day after day with him.” My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. I couldn’t believe I had just said that.
“I can’t please you anymore?” The temperature dropped, and frost crawled across the red, ornate ceiling. “So all that moaning was what? Me failing to please you?”
