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the skies without waiting for her response. They soared across London, the lights twinkling below.

“You know, you’re stunning even when you’re all dark like this. It’s like there’s two sides of you and only I get to see both of them,” she said.

“You’re not scared of it?”

“No. I want to see everything. I thought perhaps when you ruined me I might never recover from it, but you see, even when you punish me and hurt me, you still care for me. You aren’t disappointed in me like my father. You don’t want to use me like my mother. You just want me to be yours because I mean everything to you. I see that now.”

He landed in a clearing in Hyde Park. He clicked his fingers and the portal which he’d left by appeared. He carried her through it, back to Hell. When they arrived, he took her straight into his bedroom and gently placed her down on the bed, under the covers. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Sleep. I need to take care of some things,” he said.

She put a hand on his arm.

“Lucifer, I… I know what you’re going to do, but please come back and hold me afterwards, even if I’m asleep.”

The look in her violet eyes made him want to promise her the world. He wanted to get down on his hands and knees and beg her to stay here with him. Beg her for her love and affection.

The past two weeks had proven he couldn’t be without her. All he wanted was to drown himself in her citrus and violet scent, in her body. Claim her heart. Her soul.

It was only now he understood the pull Azrael had felt towards Alice. The need to possess and consume her with every moment. He didn’t regret what he’d said, but a part of him wished he’d known then how a single person could affect him in this way.

“I will, my little witch.”

She smiled at him, letting her hand fall.

That fucking beautiful smile. I want her to only smile like that for me. No one else.

He tucked her hand back in the covers, brushing his fingers over her hair. She looked at him with complete trust. He wanted to be worthy of her even though he knew he wasn’t. All the things he wanted to say to her threatened to spill out.

I love you, Candace. I’ll give you everything. You are etched on my soul. You have my heart. I can’t live in a world where you don’t exist.

She closed her eyes, long eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks. It broke the spell between them and he turned away, striding out of the room. Mall was startled when he threw open the doors to the throne room.

“My Lord.”

He threw the cuff they’d slapped on Candace at her. She caught it, frowning.

“Return that to Finn. Are they in the pit?” he asked.

“Yes. Is… is she okay?”

Her eyes betrayed her worry for Candace. He hadn’t quite realised how much the succubus liked her. Cared for her.

“Yes. She’s asleep. Don’t go disturbing her. You can see her when she wakes up.”

Mall bowed her head.

“Of course.”

He nodded at her before striding out into the hallway beyond. The next instant, he was in the pit. Demons who stepped out of line were sent here. He wanted to see to Beleth and Dantalion’s punishment himself. The two demons were sitting on a bench, both their hands in chains.

“My Lord,” Turnor said, bowing to him.

Turnor ruled the pit with an iron fist. Lucifer didn’t often come down here. He wasn’t one for watching punishments such as this. This was different. They had hurt Candace. It was time they both learnt their place.

“String them both up,” Lucifer said, pointing at Beleth and Dantalion.

“Of course, my Lord,” Turnor replied, clicking his fingers at two of his jailors.

They strode forward and dragged Beleth and Dantalion up, tying them both to posts in the corner. Lucifer wandered over to a table. Various implements were draped across it. He picked up a long cat o’nine tails with sharpened silver tips. There were several similar whips. He indicated to Turnor which ones he wanted brought over. The demon signalled the jailors again.

Lucifer walked over to Dantalion with slow, measured steps. Lashing out at the demon’s back, the whip left several raised marks on his skin. Dantalion cried out as Lucifer continued to whip him until his back was bloody.

“Continue with this one,” he said to Turnor.

He next selected a long, silver tipped whip and moved over to Beleth.

“Now, how many lashes should I give you? How many do you think is fitting for your transgressions? It is not just that you hurt her, Beleth. For the longest time you’ve tried to punch well above your weight.”

The whip cracked. A long red mark appeared on the demon’s back. Beleth grunted.

“Trying to overthrow the king. Was that some kind of joke?”

Another crack and two more marks appeared.

“You see, I’m not going to stop until your back is a bloody mess and you’re screaming. Then Turnor is going to take over and you’ll never see the light of day again. Not only are you stripped of your titles, you are consigned to spend the rest of eternity in servitude to Turnor and his jailors. How does that sound?”

Beleth didn’t speak. Lucifer struck again and again. All of his pent-up rage echoed by the crack of the whip and the blood running down Beleth’s back. He thought of all the bruises on Candace’s skin with each strike. The pain in her eyes. He would never let anyone touch her again.

Crack.

Never again would she be subjected to a demon.

Grunt. Crack.

He’d protect her.

Crack.

He’d save her from her fate.

Crack. Grunt.

Nothing would

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