Page 7 of Wicked Believer

Suddenly, I feel him behind me, his power radiating through me. I turn, stumbling through the underbrush just in time to see the shadows bend and curl in the moonlight until Lucifer stands fully formed in front of me. I freeze. He leans against a nearby tree, his suit coat artfully slung over his shoulder like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He casts it aside before he makes a show of unbuttoning his cuff links and rolling up his sleeves, his muscled forearms flexing. I swallow thickly, recognizing the move for the delicious threat that it is.

This is what he does before he punishes me.

Before he claims me. Body and soul.

I feel myself slicken, my ragged breath swirling around my face like smoke.

“Did you really think you could outrun me?” He tsks like he’s disappointed in me, though we both know this is all a part of the game we’re playing.

He steps forward.

And I take a step back.

A twig snaps beneath my foot.

My pulse races with a deep, primal need that’s so sharp, so heady, it warms me from the inside out, making me brave. Reckless even.

More reckless than I should be.

Finally, I give a coy shrug. “I thought I might be able to now, considering ...”

Lucifer goes still.

Considering I hold some of his power inside me.

My mouth goes dry at the admission, but I don’t need to say it out loud for him to know.

This strange connection that’s formed between us. Ever since he remade me.

I ... think it might have cost him more than it did me.

A spark of hellfire lights in Lucifer’s eyes, his gaze searing into me. A cruel, familiar smirk twists his lips, and I know in an instant that my taunting has only made him more feral, more dangerous. Even as a ... whatever I am now, he’s still a threat to me. And for that subtle blow to his pride, I’m sure he has a particularly damning punishment in store for me.

“Playing the brat tonight, are we?”

He comes up off the tree, and I take another step back, the sound of a frozen branch cracking like a whip at my feet.

“Don’t worry.” He grins wickedly. “I’ll make a good girl of you yet.”

Without warning he lunges for me, and I turn, trying to bolt into the darkness, but Lucifer’s on me in an instant, predator to prey.

Even at mortal speed, he’s ridiculously fast. Faster than I’ll ever be.

We slam into the ground together, his shadows managing to soften the blow slightly, even as he uses his weight to pin me. Mud and leaves and dirt coat us both from head to toe as I struggle to break free, but I can’t bring myself to care. The moment he captures both my wrists, roughly pinning them above my head, I go still. Frozen like the willing prey I was taught to be.

But for once, Lucifer isn’t having it.

“Fight me, Charlotte,” he growls.

I bite my lip. “Sir?”

“I said, fight me.”

“Lucifer, I—”

“Are you safe-wording or are you going to obey?”

I drop my gaze. This isn’t what we agreed on, and a sudden feeling of cold chills me, but I ... have my safe word and I ... don’t use it.