Page 121 of Raphael

“He’s right outside,” Aurora hissed. “I want to take her home. Willow and I will take care of her.”

I could taste the animosity in the air. His. Hers. “You touch my wife, and you won’t live-.”

“You better think twice before you finish that statement.” The air turned arctic. I recognized the voice of Alexei Nikolaev. Things were bad, but I couldn’t find the strength to care.

“Why don’t we all calm down?” Raphael’s sister, Isabella, chimed in. “Sailor is Raphael’s wife. She’s been through hell, let her rest. Then they’ll talk and decide what’s best for them.”

“Going away is best for her,” Aurora claimed. She was wrong, but then she was right. “I’ve been listening to her scream at night for three fucking weeks. She’snotgetting better. She’s dying. Not eating. Not sleeping.”

“I’ll make her better.” Raphael’s voice reflected barely contained fury.

”She’s been through hell,” Aurora hissed. “I’m not saying she’d leave you for good. But she has to come to terms. She never came to terms with her sister’s death. She kept going. For Gabriel’s sake. It’s time she takes care of herself. She needs to heal.”

“She’ll heal with me.” I could hear the stubbornness in Raphael’s voice. Damn it, I was so fucking tired. Three weeks of sleep wasn’t enough. I felt like there were bricks sitting on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I shifted on the bed and everyone stilled. I turned my back to them before the mattress dipped right beside me.

“Everyone leave.” An order. A demand.

Feet shuffling.

Click.

I was alone with the devil.

The silence was heavy. History and truth were finally out. Stars flickered in the darkness, hinting at its beauty. But I was too blind. My heart bled too heavily, coloring the darkness with the crimson red colors of our pasts.

“Don’t shut me out,” he rasped, his voice rough. “Talk to me.”

“You lied.” An accusation. A betrayal. “You knew Anya was my half-sister. You knew about the agreement. You tried to buy me from my father.”

His breathing paused. His face moved closer, his rough palms cupped my face, then his nose brushed against mine.

“And I’d lie a thousand times more, just to keep you with me.”

It was appropriate. My diablo didn’t feel regret. No sorrow. No pain. No fear. While I fucking felt it all.

“Is he dead?” I asked instead, my voice like sandpaper against my windpipe.

“Santiago Tijuana is dead.” My relief. His fury. I could taste it; it was a living, breathing thing traveling through the air. “Your father is next.”

I waited for guilt to come. It didn’t. If anything, there was a disappointment that my father wasn’t dead.

“My mother too,” I said dully.

She let him hurt Anya. She let him come after Gabriel. She was just as guilty, and I had no more forgiveness left in me. Not for them; not for me.

They’d get off easy. Anya suffered for twenty-two years. Their deaths would be swift.

Another pause. “I’ll take care of it. For you, Reina, I’d cover the streets in blood.”

When I said nothing else, he stood up and headed for the door. Soft light flooded into the room as he opened it.

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes met mine.

“I love you, Reina,” he said softly. Three little words that should mean the entire world. Yet, now they were tainted with bitterness and lies. “It only took a single dance to fall in love with you. Not even my dying breath will end it.”

One devil. Two hearts. Three souls.