“I was trying to be honest with you.”
Lucien stopped suddenly and spun to face me. “I am the Prince of Lies, Elaria. I can practically smell the deception rolling off your lips. Your tears were real. You do understand what it's like to be a monster. I saw the truth in your eyes, felt it in your voice. But when you spoke of loving my brother and me, of not loving us the way you love others, your voice changed.” He leaned down to growl at me, “Your eyes changed. You accused me of trying to command your heart.” He laughed scathingly. “I don't want your heart, Elaria. I want you to suffer. I want your blood in my mouth and your throat in my hands. I want your body writhing beneath me, but I don't give a fuck about your heart.”
“You don't give a fuck about my heart?” I shot back in a tone to match his. “Sure. That's why you were shouting in my face about loving you. You were so furious that you turned those innocent people into ice sculptures!”
“You do love me, you little fool,” Lucien's gaze raked me scornfully. “You love us,” he sneered. “You call it friendship because you know that you can't have us. Your lovers would never allow you to take Lucifer to your bed and I, the one who had the balls to claim you and marry you and take you away from them, have no love to offer you in return. You are fucked either way, so you shout that other F-word—friendship. You hold it up like a shield, using it to get close to me without admitting to the truth, all while screaming that it is truth. But it's just another lie. Another manipulation. That's why I'm furious.”
“You're the one trying to manipulate me,” I argued breathlessly. “Trying to trick me into thinking you have some kind of insight into my heart.”
“As I said, Elaria,” he drawled, “I don't give a fuck about your heart... other than, perhaps, breaking it. I don't care if you feel light and full and all that other bullshit when you look at me. And I certainly don't have any insight into its pathetic workings. But I do know a lie when I smell one, and it really fucking pisses me off when someone tries to manipulate me with lies. You love Lucifer and, by your own reasoning, that means you love me.”
“No.” I stared him down. “I don't.”
He grinned sardonically. “Another lie.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lucien's words sliced at me long after he'd spoken them. My husbands had accused me of being in love with Lucifer several times, and Verin had just thrown a fit over him as well. Were they right? Did I love Lucifer more than I thought? Was I pushing down my feelings because I couldn't have him? Or was the trauma between us masking them? The lady doth protest too much...
I think it was the Devil who was protesting too much, RS pointed out. Twice, he said that he doesn't care about you loving him, and yet he overturned a fucking table when you said you didn't. That wasn't anger over being manipulated, El. If that were the case, he would have thrown a hissy-fit earlier when you were trying to use your wiles on him. But he said he admired you for it then. So, why, suddenly, now is he pissed about being manipulated?
But—
Girl, she cut me off, he just told you that he's the Prince of Lies and you're still believing what he says about how you feel? Come on! You know your own heart. You love the sexy Angel God, but you don't, in Cerberus' words, lurv him. He commanded you to speak the truth, and you still couldn't say that you love him. He commanded you, El. That means that you couldn't have lied.
He ordered me to admit the truth! I said in revelation. That's why I felt his magic. It wasn't him trying to force me to love him; he was forcing the truth from me.
And he got it, Kyanite said smugly. It just wasn't what he wanted to hear. So, he tried to twist you into believing that you were lying to yourself.
RS snorted. I'll give the Devil this much, I think he's right about the reasons you don't love him. Lucifer is just too fucking nice to you. You like a man with a bit more... bite. You know?
I do, I agreed. Lucifer isn't right