Lucifer reentered the Realm of Light in a flash of light conjured by Remiel at his side. The other angels chained around the looking glass hushed at their arrival, their eyes wary and watchful at the same time. They had likely seen all that had played out all those months ago. But had they seen what Lucifer had caused—the death of a human? Considering he’d suffered no repercussions, he assumed not. Though even if they had, that mattered not to Lucifer at this moment.

Of the male angels that were present and murmuring greetings to Remiel alone, the one that he had hoped was absent was. Michael was not among the group that included only Raziel, Raguel, Jeremiel, Zadkiel, and Chameul. Though neither was Azrael. The thought of where the Angel of Death might be after what he’d forced him to return above with quickened Lucifer’s heartbeat. If Michael had intercepted him…

His freedom back here could be cut short at any moment.

Impatience tightened Lucifer’s muscles more than the stirring of whispers that came from the other angels.

Turning toward the framing columns to their private chambers, Lucifer’s feet were ready to deliver him to the place he needed to be. To the one being he needed to see. A warm hand curled around his bicep, stopping his escape from the circular room of glowing light. Shoving Lucifer away from the other watching angels, Remiel’s voice was a whisper that made Lucifer eager to hear his private words. “I warn you, brother. Do not follow where your heart is telling you to go.”

“And why not?” Lucifer yanked his arm free, stepping closer to Remiel so that they were standing face to face. Silence stretched out between them, becoming tangible in a way that tightened Lucifer’s skin and had his hands cranking into fists at the time that was being taken from him. His stare begged and dared Remiel to reveal what he knew but had yet to say. “Speak now or get out of my way.”

Remiel’s shoulders fell with his exhale. He stepped aside. “It is not my place…”

Irritation at his brother’s subservience and lack of a backbone stirred anger within him. He shoved his brother further aside with his forearm and stalked through the soaring entry that revealed the corridor he needed to pass through to find her. Already he could feel her presence, that sensation that was like an invisible thread that tethered him to her no matter where each of them was. Intending to pass by the entries to their personal chambers as quickly as possible, Lucifer picked up the pace—until the sensation spiked.

Lucifer had expected to have to weave throughout the labyrinth of corridors to her ruined garden. Even now he could imagine her sitting by the water with her hands catching her quietly wept tears. And he had been wrong. She was not that far away. She was not even in her own chamber ending this corridor.

Turning to face the glittering drapery to his side, he knew where Gabriel was.

She had received his message, she must have.

And now…she was waiting for him, aware of his return. In his private chamber.

Steeling himself and taking a few deep breaths, he dared to venture inside, sweeping the chiming drapery to one side as he went. And there she was. Sitting at the platform he’d spent countless hours sketching her likeness. The sight of Gabriel facing him from the glowing perch, her hands folded in her lap, her hair loose over her shoulders and longer than he remembered, and her lips parted with anticipation, almost made his heart beat right out of his chest. The depth of emotion he felt for her was unchallenged. Nothing had ever made him feel the way that merely beholding her did.

And then he saw it. The feather he’d sketched Gabriel’s beauty with was in her joined hands, and it was shaking. Her hands were quivering. Concern and unsettling fear rooted through his soul, making him stumble as he staggered through strewn scrolls to get to her. Had she seen his actions below? Did she know what he had done to ensure his message reached her?

Falling to his knees, he did not dare to touch her. Not yet. Not until she invited him too. He had used that man on Earth to his own advantage, a man that was set to die horribly through drowning. Had the quick death he had not kept from happening changed the way she felt about him? Had her hope for all that was good in him finally met its end?

“Gabriel, I…” He so badly wanted to touch her, and as a stray tear spilled from her eye, he felt something breaking in him. If he had lost her… “I am sorry. I—”

“Shhh.” Gabriel’s finger to his lips shushed his words as if she had sucked them right out of him. Another tear fell, and she forced a smile that was so sad it crushed him. “I know you are. I know you, Lucifer. And I am so, so sorry…”

“You?” Confusion contorted the fear right out of Lucifer’s expression as her tear-filled gaze fell, releasing a few silver drops. She sniffed. “No. You have done naught to warrant those words from your mouth. Not now. Not ever.”

Gabriel’s fallen eyes lifted with her deep, shuddering breath. Except she didn’t look at him. Instead, her gaze lifted higher, settling on something behind Lucifer. And then he felt it as chimes sounded.

They were no longer alone.

“Michael,” Lucifer grated as he rose and spun to face their unwanted guest. “Come to greet me upon my return? Have you missed me so?”

Michael regarded Lucifer as if he were an ant in need of crushing. A plague in need a cleansing. His narrowed eyes flicked from him to Gabriel, his lips pressing harder together as he nodded. “It must be done.”

Lucifer stepped forward, his wings expanding to shield Michael’s unacceptable look from Gabriel while making Lucifer appear larger before his towering brother. Anger fired within him at Michael’s cryptic words that seemed to be trying to force a response from Gabriel. “I am standing right here before you,” he snarled, his need to protect Gabriel from whatever Michael had planned forcing the animalistic side of him to break free. “What must be done, dear brother?”

Michael’s gaze lowered with a nod as if he’d received the instruction from Gabriel herself. “I am here with one task and but one task alone. You cannot be trusted, not even when chained.”

Lucifer’s eyes darted as if trying to find a way out, an escape. He could sense the severity of what was to come even though he had no answer of what exactly that was. But where would he go? All that kept him forging on, breathing and going through the motions of his punishments, was the thought of seeing her again, of hearing her voice, of touching her hand, her lips… No. There was nowhere else to go. Not without her. And he would not be chained herein. Michael had made that abundantly clear. He couldn’t be trusted in this realm.

Assuming the worst, he glared at Michael. “You are set to deliver me back below? For how long?”

“Not below…” Michael said no more. Instead, he lifted his glowing hand from the hilt of the angel sword.

At once he knew where he was going. The place Remiel had warned him of. The prison cell.

“Lucifer, please understand.”

At Gabriel’s soft voice, he spun down to his knees and clasped her tangled hands. Care that he should refrain from touching her was gone. Care that Michael was right there never existed and would not stop him now. Peering into her eyes that pooled silver and spilled twin tracks down her flushed cheeks, he knew the answer before he asked the question. “You agreed to this? You agreed to lock me away?”

Gabriel shook her head, and Lucifer prematurely let out the breath he’d been holding. “I did not agree. The decision was mine.”

Lucifer’s lungs hitched. His sight turned hazy as he stared at her sorrowful face, her beautiful features melting from his field of view. With nothing but haze left, her words ‘The decision was mine’ repeated in his mind over and over again. Each repeat sent a shockwave through his body, feeling like he was being crushed from the inside out. Gabriel had turned against him. She had voted against him, his Gabriel, the only one who had ever stood by him.

A tense hand landed on Lucifer’s shoulder, and the shock of power that jolted through him forced him from his knees up to his feet. “Time to go,” Michael grated in his ear.

Lucifer was spun around so fast that he became a spindle of light, a subtle click vanishing his body only to reform him in a place he had never seen before. Surrounded by light that appeared endless around him, where Lucifer stood was no different—until a sudden shock of spearing lights shot up around him in a perfect circle. Lucifer suddenly faced bars of pure power that were never-ending as they faded into the eternal radiance above. A prison cell. And he was locked inside, while Michael smirked from beyond the bars, his hand resting harmlessly over the hilt of the angel sword.

Baring his teeth with a hiss, Lucifer clutched the glowing bars, ready to tear this place along with Michael down. The other angel didn’t even budge, and Lucifer howled as the feeling of molten lava attacked his palms before he wrenched them free.

“Despite all the warnings, you refused to keep away. You refused to follow our angelic laws.” Michael stepped closer, shaking his head. “You brought this upon yourself, Lucifer. You forced God’s hand.”

Something in Lucifer, a piece of him that had always been there but had been dormant, trapped by love and his angelic nature, slithered free of its cage. It burned hotter than the bars that had taken the skin of his palms and fingers back to the bone. And it poisoned him more insidiously than anger and was longer lasting than ire. The feeling was not for Gabriel. No. Never for Gabriel. This had not been her doing. Her idea. Despite what she claimed, he knew where this result had come from. His arch rival. His nemesis. The angel Lucifer was sure secretly coveted what he had started with Gabriel for himself. The angel who was determined to turn his only saving grace against him. And now that it was out, Lucifer knew he could never lock it away, not anymore. This new emotion was so severe it threatened to drown him as he glared at Michael. It threatened to infect his love and throw it away like burned corpses on the wind.

For the first time ever, Lucifer felt—hate.