Drusilla
Rapha’s body is heavy in my arms. His warmth is fading. His eyes stare at nothing, lips parted as if he had one more thing to say.
“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no...”
Pain rips through me with a cruel, patient precision.
He died in my arms. For me.
I press my lips to his brow, then to his mouth. He doesn’t kiss me back.
“You promised me forever,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
My heart aches so violently I want to tear it from my chest, to stop feeling, stop remembering the way he touched me like I was sacred.
But he’s gone.
I rock forward, cradling him tighter, like I can wrap my body around time and undo it.
But any power I had here has dissipated. I’m a vampire again, but I have no power to bring back the man I love.
Unless…
Rapha said the magic in the manor he built for me would answer me. Can I use it to bring him back?
The idea barely registers when a new presence coils into the space. The shadows stretch and twist as smoke slinks in around the altar.
And from the center of it stepsLucifer, resplendent in the most garish ensemble I’ve ever seen.
A ruby-red velvet suit, embroidered with glittering gold serpents that writhe subtly when he moves.
His shirt is an explosion of ruffled black silk, open halfway to his navel.
His boots—snakeskin, obviously—shine like he has someone on his demonic payroll whose only job is to buff them between dramatic entrances.
And atop his immaculately groomed head? A top hat. Tilted enough to be both rakish and ridiculous.
He smiles as if stepping onto a stage instead of into the ruins of my broken heart. His gaze settles on Rapha’s body. “Well. This is dramatic. I half-expected doves.”
I don’t rise. “Go away.”
Lucifer sighs, tilting his head. “That’s the thanks I get? After coming all this way?”
“You’re too late,” I snarl.
“Darling, I’m never late. I arrive precisely when the desperation peaks.”
“Proud of your pathetic little games, are you?” I ask bitterly. “Come to gloat?”
“A little,” he admits without remorse. “Your grief summoned me. Your angst was too delicious to resist.” He circles Rapha’s corpse with idle interest. “He really went for the grand gesture, didn’t he? Tragic. Did he whisper your name with his dying breath? Did he curse me? Did he weep?”
“He loved,” I snap. “Something you’ll never understand.”
Lucifer gasps, pressing a hand to his ridiculous ruffled chest. “You wound me, Drusilla.” He tilts his head, smiling with mock sympathy. “Have you reconsidered my offer? It’s not too late.”
“The soul tether?” I glare at him. “I told you no.”
“Yes, yes. ‘If he fights for me, it has to be his choice.’ ” He mimics my voice. “Very romantic.” He steps closer, voice dropping. “But he made his choice, didn’t he, Drusilla? He died for you. Gave what little was left of his tattered soul. That should count for something.”
My throat tightens. I can’t breathe.
He lifts a hand, palm glowing faintly with red magic.
“He’ll live. He’ll breathe. He’ll love you.
” He pauses. “But he’ll never again be just himself.
A piece of him will always echo you. Your bond will be unbreakable.
Binding. And yes,” he says as if anticipating my question, “he’ll be aware of it.
That’s part of the fun. So, what is your decision?
You don’t have much time left. He’s growing colder by the minute. ”
I stare at him, something cold uncoiling in my chest. “You’re asking me to do this without his consent.”
Lucifer shrugs. “I’m offering you permanence. Most people would jump at the chance to resurrect their one true love. Rapha did. Don’t you think you should return the favor?”
I glower at him. “You don’t understand love.”
“No,” he says, eyes suddenly flat and ancient. “But I understand bargains.”
Silence cloaks us like a curtain.
I look down at Rapha. At the locket still clutched in his hand. At the man who sacrificed himself so I could live. Who trusted me to make the right call. Even now.
“No,” I say quietly.
Lucifer blinks, almost startled. “What was that?”
“I said no.” I lift my chin. “Not that way. Never that way. The deals, the bargains, the pacts, whatever you want to call them, end here.” I brush my fingers over Rapha’s cheek. His skin is so pale. “He gave up everything for me. I’m not turning that into a leash.”
“As you wish.” His sigh is long and theatrical. “Honestly, you principled types always make me feel a little nauseous, like I’ve swallowed holy water by accident.”
Lucifer turns to walk away, then pauses and glances back with theatrical casualness. “Still, you really should be proud.”
I frown. “Of what?”
“He did it himself, Drusilla. As he died. Without me. No bargains, no sigils, no blood price. Just raw, inconvenient love.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
Lucifer arches a brow. “Look at your beloved.”
My gaze flies to Rapha, and my mouth drops open. His horns have vanished. The talons tipping his fingers... gone.
“He came for me,” I whisper. “He chose love over addiction. He chose me. That’s what freed him.”
“Indeed.” Lucifer spins on his heel, hands behind his back like a ringmaster preparing his final flourish.
“Rapha’s devoted sacrifice unraveled the pact that bound him to me, and the bloodlight magic revived your vampiric sides.
” He sighs heavily. “Shame. I swear it’s harder to keep a greed demon than a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. ”
My heart kicks against my ribs. “Are you saying he’s free? That he’s just Rapha now?”
Lucifer shrugs. “If there’s ever been such a thing. But yes. Mortal-ish. Vampire-ish. All those nice soft hyphens. Bound to you by love, not a contract. Free will fully intact. Boring as hell.”
“Oh, Gods,” I murmur, hardly able to believe it.
Then a thought occurs to me. I narrow my eyes.
“Wait. You knew he was free when you offered me the soul tether. You would’ve brought him back, but not for me. Not for us. This was all part of your sick little game. You brought back Cassian to manipulate me. You thought I’d bargain for Rapha’s life just as he did for mine.”
Lucifer grins, slow and cold. “Of course I did, my sweet, deluded Drusilla. Need I remind you that I’m the Devil?
Manipulation is my middle name. Did you honestly think I brought your father back, brought you back, out of the goodness of my charred little heart?
No, darling. I thought I could twist your love for Rapha into something useful.
A shiny little chain I could tug when I got bored. ”
I glare. “Then why didn’t you?”
He sighs impatiently, like he’s explaining long division to a dog.
“Because while I cracked open the gate, it was his damn devotion that dragged your soul back into your bones. He gave you life again. It seems centuries of unrequited love is quite the magical accelerant. You were reborn through his love, not my dominion. And love , as it turns out, is wildly inconvenient to corrupt. I couldn’t tether you because you weren’t mine to bind. ”
“So in tethering Rapha to me, I would tether myself to you,” I state.
He gives a slow, mocking clap. “Exactly. But you resisted. You chose to let his sacrifice stand. You chose him. And he chose you. Honestly, I’m offended.”
Hysterical laughter bubbles up in my throat. “Oh, Gods, this is perfect.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrow, his grin fixed like it’s been stapled there under duress. “Careful, darling. I’m still the Prince of Darkness. Just because you slipped the leash doesn’t mean I won’t find new ways to meddle. I’m endlessly creative.”
“You’re petty,” I correct, wiping a tear of laughter from my cheek. “You lost, and you hate that it was because of love.”
“Yes, well, thanks to my beloved estranged father”—he casts his eyes heavenward—“true, unselfish love is messy, unpredictable, and incredibly hard to corrupt. I loathe it.”
“Get used to it,” I say, turning back to Rapha’s still form, my hand trembling as it brushes his hair from his brow. “Because this love? It's not going anywhere.”
Something flickers in Lucifer’s eyes for only a second, but I recognize it. Envy.
“Disgusting,” he scoffs. “You two are insufferable.”
I pause, another question catching on the edge of my tongue.
“And Cassian?” I ask, voice low. “Is he dead?”
Lucifer’s grin sharpens, teeth gleaming like blades. “Oh, yes. Quite. No messy in between this time. No purgatory. No redemption arc.” He leans in, his purred words laced with venom.
“He’s with me now. And I plan to spend the next few millennia finding increasingly creative ways to make him regret every moment of it.”
I shiver, not with fear but with certainty. Cassian is gone. Truly gone. And the Devil, for once, is telling the truth.
He flicks his wrist and begins to fade, his silhouette blurring into smoke and shadow. “Enjoy your nauseating reunion,” he calls over his shoulder. “But know this—love may have won today, but I never really lose. I simply pivot.”
I open my mouth to deliver a scathing reply, but he disappears in a shimmer of embers.
And then…
Rapha’s fingers twitch in my hand.
I freeze.
The world tilts.
My gaze flies to his face. Color rises beneath his skin like dawn bleeding back into a world I thought would never see light again. His cheeks flush with the faintest pink, the awful stillness melting into something warm.
His chest rises. A sharp, desperate inhale that drags him back from the edge of the abyss. His ribs expand. His lips part around a rasping breath that sounds more like a sob. His lashes flicker.
“Rapha?” I whisper, terrified to believe it.
A golden light pulses beneath the skin, faint and flickering, like an ember refusing to die.
The wound on his chest knits closed, muscle tightening beneath skin, torn flesh fusing with quiet, terrifying grace.
Blood clings to him still, but the source of it is sealing shut, healing slowly but surely.
His hand jerks again. Curls around mine.
His eyes open and lock onto mine, no longer red but the beautiful silver gray they were when we met.
“Drusilla,” he breathes.
I sob his name as I cradle his face in trembling hands. “You came back.”
He nods faintly, like it takes everything he has. “For you,” he rasps. “Always for you.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. I don’t bother wiping them away. I press my forehead to his, anchoring us both. His breath is shallow, but it’s real. Warm.
“You died,” I whisper.
“I remember.” His voice is rough, frayed at the edges. A shudder rolls through him. I slide my hand over his chest above the nearly sealed wound. His heartbeat flutters against my palm, growing stronger with each beat. My tears fall faster.
“I thought I lost you. I thought—” My throat closes. “You chose me. It was enough.” I lean in, my lips brushing his.
“No more running,” he vows, cupping the back of my neck. “No more bargains. No more dying. I choose you. Not power. Not eternity. Not even vengeance. Just you.”
We collapse into each other. Broken, rebuilt, reborn. The temple trembles around us, its purpose burned out, its curse undone.
But I don’t look at it.
I look only at him.
The vampire I died for centuries ago.
The mortal-ish man I live for today.
The beautiful soul I’ll love for all my tomorrows.