Page 22 of These Monstrous Ties

He takes my hand in his, brings my knuckles to his mouth and presses a kiss against them. Then he pulls me in for a hug.

For a moment, I’m stunned.

I can’t recall a time we’ve ever hugged one another.

Slowly, I put my arms around his broad back, savoring his warmth.

“Thank you, Sid,” he whispers against my head. “All this time you’ve hated me…I just wanted you to be mine.”

And then he pulls away.

Chapter Nine

Halloween, One Year Ago

“Where are we going?”

Lucifer is still guiding me through the woods, and this time, he has an arm wrapped possessively around my shoulders. He hasn’t spoken to me since he shoved me up against the tree, and I’ve been reluctant to speak.

But now, I want to know.

Because my plan is fading from sight. Adrenaline is coursing through me and although I think I should be terrified, although I think I need to escape, I don’t want to. I want to see where this ride takes me. I almost don’t ever want to get off.

“You’ll see,” Lucifer says. His same answer to every question I’ve asked tonight.

“I want to know now,” I counter.

He stops walking, turning to me, eyes narrowed. “We’re going to be late to Lover’s Death. You’re going to miss the Death Oath. And that is something youcannotmiss, unless you want to die.”

I laugh nervously. “Well, funny you mention it…”

He takes my chin in his hand, tips my head up so my gaze is on his. “I know what you planned to do,” he says, his voice low and angry. His eyes trail down my body, to the gun. His hands follow, and he takes it out of the holster.

I reach for it, but his hand slides down my chin, over my neck. He shakes his head. “Don’t,” he warns me.

He throws the gun. I hear it land, softly, some distance away.

“What the fuck?” I hiss at him, trying to track his aim in the dark. But it’s no use. It could be fucking anywhere.

“You’re not going to die tonight, Lilith, at least not by your own hand. I want you stop asking questions. I want you to shut the fuck up, okay?”

My hand comes up, and I slap him.

I slap him so hard, I swear to God the sound of my palm on his face echoes in the forest. I see a smear of his skeleton paint, but otherwise, he didn’t even move. My hand probably hurts more than his face, which pisses me off even more.

He smiles at me. It’s cold. Malicious.

And then he knocks me to the ground, shoving me and falling with me.

His body is pressed against me, one hand is on my chest. “Violence is never the answer, Lilith,” he whispers into my ear, pressing further into me. His mouth brushes against my neck, and then he sinks his teeth into me.

I open my mouth to scream at him, but he clamps a hand over my lips. My neck is burning, and I swear he drew blood.

His lips find their way to my own, and he moves his fingers. I taste it as I open my mouth for him.

Iron.

My own blood.