LUCIFER THE MORNINGSTAR
Willow dropped, her legs crumpling beneath her as her eyes glazed over. Beelzebub released her as if she’d burned him the moment
I shouted my protest, as if that would be enough to undo what he’d done. My body moved more quickly than I remembered, leaving me to stumble slightly as I adjusted to the feeling of my own skin enveloped around my soul.
I caught Willow before she could hit the floor, sliding an arm beneath her to offer support. I winced at the odd angle of her neck, at the way it hung limply with nothing to support it. The shape of her reminded me of Susannah, of the grotesque way her death had clung to what remained of her even after Charlotte and I raised her from the grave.
No.
Her eyes rolled back in her head as her soul severed from her physical form, the ghost of her spirit rising from her chest in a faint misty form.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, even though I knew she was past hearing me. The Willow I knew could no longer sense those trying to reach her, her spirit lost to the call of Hell in her soul. What I would do would bring her pain, would torment her, and likely make her hate me even more than she already did.
I pushed my hand through that mist leaking free from her heart, slamming my palm against the bare skin of her chest. Inky tendrils of dark, forbidden magic spread through the mist that could have brought her to peace if her soul hadn’t been damned by her ancestor’s actions, wrapping around what remained of Willow and clinging to her.
Her skin split beneath my hand, cracking open as if she was made of porcelain. Darkness spread over her skin like the vines she loved, creating a hollow in her body as I focused my magic on gripping every last wisp of her soul. I wouldn’t let any part of her escape me, wouldn’t let any bit of the woman I’d come to crave more than my own freedom, sever from what made her her.
The tendrils latched on, caging her in a brutal, cruel embrace as her body shuddered in my arms. My free hand inched up her back, slipping beneath her top and touching the mark I’d put on her shoulder. The one that made her mine.
The one that enabled me to bind her to me in a desperate bid to save her.
Her back arched involuntarily as my nails sunk into the center of the triangle I’d marked her with, elongating into black talons that pierced her flesh. I knew the pain she’d feel when she awoke would be crippling, that she’d remember bits and pieces of what had happened in the aches that plagued her body.
Cradling her in my arms, I leaned forward and touched my forehead to hers, holding her in position as I shifted my hand on her chest, sinking my fingers between the cracks I’d created in her skin.
The dark magic I’d used to trap her soul here returned to me, surrounding my skin and tugging her back into her body. Only when her soul had returned to her, wrapping around her heart and making itself at home in the useless, dead flesh of her body, did I pull my fingers free and stare down at where the mist tinted with the slightest green and black wisps swirled inside the crevice I’d made.
She hung limply as I pulled back, holding up my forearm to Beelzebub, who stared at it and swallowed. “Lucifer…” he said, his voice trailing off as he looked between me and my wife.
“Do it now,” I commanded, watching as he unsheathed his favored dagger from the strap crossed over his chest. He pressed it into the vulnerable underside of my wrist, dragging it up my vein until he reached the inner part of my elbow. What I aimed to do would require far more blood than any mortal could easily give, only the true immortality of my form offering her salvation.
Blood flowed freely over my skin, dripping onto the floor beneath me as I shifted to place it over Willow’s mouth. She was unresponsive as I pressed it to her lips, smearing her mouth and skin with my blood and allowing it to
pool in her mouth. The archdemons were silent as we waited for it to drip down the back of her throat, for her body to consume what would fix the wrong done to her mortal form.
A ragged breath filled her lungs, her neck shifting and snapping back into place as the bones mended. I hung my head forward, pulling her tighter into me and drawing comfort from the rise and fall of her chest in an even, natural rhythm. It was the same one she had when I watched her sleep, the same heartbeat that echoed with her breaths.
My blood dripped onto the floor as my flesh worked to knit itself back together, straining as I stood with Willow in my arms and headed for the door. Her screams of pain began, tearing through my eardrums and making me wince. The pain in that sound was unimaginable. To think of what she must have been feeling to make noises like that even in the depths of sleep…
“Lucifer, we need to know what you want us to do. The plans have clearly changed,” Asmodeus called behind me.
“The plans can fucking wait,” I snarled, leaving the archdemons to wreak whatever havoc they wished upon the Coven. None of them mattered. None of it mattered.
Only the witch in my arms.
