Page 177 of Wicked Believer

“What? How in God’s name did you—?”

“Hell is and always has been my realm, darling. Not even my Father or my self-righteous sycophant for a brother could steal it from me.” He steps back, taking hold of my hand to reveal the desolate wasteland around me. “I’m a man of my word and I made a promise to you that I would bring you here. I also promise to be honest with you starting now. Do you understand me?”

I nod. “I promise to do the same.”

In truth, what I’ve been doing with his siblings weighs on me.

But I’ll make it a point to tell him soon. When the time is right.

“I would never expect anything less.” Lucifer extends his hand to me. “Do you trust me, Charlotte?”

I snort, smiling slightly. “Your brother asked me almost the exact same thing a few weeks back.”

“My brother?” He lifts a brow as if to say which one.

“The one I ended up in the papers with.”

The one you let have his way with me tonight.That part goes unspoken.

I have a feeling rumors of Lucifer and me being on the rocks will spread rapidly—even if it’s not at all true. Everyone at the party signed a lengthy NDA and would never publicly utter so much as a word against us, but money talks.

And the money the press will pay for any hint of unsubstantiated, juicy gossip about Lucifer and me is substantial. More than most Americans make in a year, easily.

Especially since the first seal opening.

Humanity’s more eager for celestial gossip than ever.

Lucifer frowns. “Azmodeus is a bloody prat who sticks his noseandhis cock into everything, and I regret allowing him to touch you if it’s going to be a while before we—”

“It won’t,” I say, smiling at how quickly the tables have turned, and for once, it’s me who needs to reassure him. “Things with us are still as they were. I promise you. Our dynamic isn’t over, and neither are we. The twenty-four seven D/s part is only ... on pause for a minute. I just need some space to figure things out first. That’s all.”

“To figure out Azrael you mean?” Lucifer mouth quirks suggestively.

I flush, but Lucifer’s crooked grin only widens. “NotjustAzrael.”

“I mean no judgment, Charlotte,” he says, turning away from me. “Azrael is ...” He lifts his brows once to imply that Azrael is, well, completely and totally fuckable.

A sudden burst of jealousy twists through me.

And interest.

Howcan he be so mature and okay about all this?

I can’t say I’d be able to do the same if the roles were reversed.

And would they ever want to ...

No. No, no, no.

I can’t ask either of them that.

Oh God. I amdefinitelygoing to have to unpack all of this in therapy.

The poor woman will be working overtime with all I’ll have to tell her about the three of us. Now that we’re trying this open-relationship thing.

“Come, Charlotte,” Lucifer beckons me. “There’s something I’d like you to see.”

He takes my hand, leading me from the dry, arid sand dune we’re standing in. We wander through a gray and never-ending desert for what feels like ages—“The weight of all time stretched thin,” he explains. No wonder he’s sometimes gone for days when to him it seems like it’s only been a few hours. All the times I’ve been frustrated and angry with him when he’s been fulfilling his duties now feels incredibly selfish to me.