I never knew a single word could shatter my heart.
I gasped, my shoulders slumping. A thousand shards cut me on the inside, opened those barely scabbed-over wounds Lucifer just poked at earlier, and I bled, bled, bled. Whatever little belief I’d had in Azazel’s intentions crumbled to dust, along with any fledgling hope for something more.
I struggled to breathe. Pain flared in my chest, rapacious and furious. He couldn’t have hurt me more if he’d taken one of those daggers and thrust it straight through my heart.
I mentally grasped for my walls. Where were they when I needed them, when I’d rather close myself off than break apart in public? They’d served me so well in all the years past, but I’d taken them down for Azazel, and now I couldn’t seem to raise them again.
Azazel’s voice snapped my attention back to him. “But,” he said, still looking at Lucifer, “it’s not what I want anymore.”
Lucifer pressed his lips into a thin line, and his expression darkened.
Azazel caught my gaze, a storm of lightning in his eyes. “I want you to stay. You’re mine, and I’m claiming you.” He took a heavy breath, his voice harsh as he added, “You’re not a burden, not a problem to be rid of. You’re the reason I’ve smiled more in the past few weeks than I did in the last decades. Getting to know you is the best thing to have happened to me in a long while. I want you down here with me, as my wife.” A pause, then, softly— “If you’ll have me.”
Instant, crushing relief rushed through me with enough force to make me sway on my feet. I raised a trembling hand to my mouth, my eyes prickling hot. It should have scared me, how much his words meant to me, how fiercely I felt that breathtaking sense of relief and utter joy. And maybe it did, a little.
My walls, I guessed, had kept me from this, from feeling this deeply, from handing someone the power to hurt me. Because when you showed someone the vulnerable parts of yourself, you gave them the knowledge where exactly to cut to make you bleed.
As Azazel had given me. He told me of his scars, let me see the parts of him that were raw and hurting, gave me the knowledge to eviscerate him.
And it was because of this, as I stood there staring at him, that I knew what his declaration cost him, knew how much he risked. Not Lucifer’s scorn, not the mockery of the court, no.
My rejection.
He laid his heart at my feet, told me he wanted me to stay, when I was just as likely to go back to Earth as I was to remain here. Azazel couldn’t know how I felt. How would he, when I’d just figured it out myself?
He’d just sliced himself open and handed me that most vulnerable part of him, the piece that was battered and bruised by his father’s abandonment—who didn’t love him enough to stay in his life.
And I could hurt him just as badly now, if I chose to accept Lucifer’s offer and went back to Earth, with my mind wiped of every memory of Azazel. Gone all the moments we shared, the joy, the pain, the laughter, the sex…the love.
Heart aching from the choice laid out before me, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, it was to see Azazel waiting patiently for my answer.
And I found it wasn’t really a choice at all. My heart had known all along.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’ll stay.”
His smile was sudden and blindingly bright, his eyes holding the hint of welcome surprise. He really hadn’t known. He’d been prepared to receive a crushing rejection and watch me walk out of his life.
Never, I vowed silently. Never would I give him up. He was mine, and I’d claim him as he did me.
I turned to Lucifer, who’d watched our exchange with a sour expression. His lip even curled.
“Your Grace,” I said. “As much as I appreciate your generous offer, I have to decline. I’d rather stay in Hell.”
He bared his teeth. “I will not have this debt hanging over my head. It needs to be settled now.”
I blinked. “That sounds like a you problem.”
“Zoe,” Azazel hissed.
I startled, clapped a hand over my mouth, and hastily bowed. “My apologies, Your Grace. What I meant to say was—I mean—”
Think, think, I urged myself. Propose something else.