The Old King and the New Bride Ch. 03

Now that mom's been cleared away...Lilith.

I literally groan out of exhaustion. That woman is going to drive me nuts, I just know it. She's got her crosshairs trained on my head, she just doesn't have the guts to pull the trigger. I know now that she and Leyna both share a deep hatred for me and my position. Both of them feel slighted for being passed over by a human for queen.

The good news: She probably won't come after me for it and try to slice my head off. Lilith, thankfully, knows better than to challenge Lucifer at anything. She's worked under him for way too long to even try taking me out.

The better news: In a matter of five minutes I've managed to stand my ground against her and proved to the mass of fallen angels and demons that I have a spine and I'm willing to use it. That grants me a few ounces of street cred and puts me on top of the Verbal Ass Kicking list. Bonus points there.

I make my way quietly down the enormous hallway, slightly comforted by the screams of the damned souls below me. At least I'm not wandering back to my room in complete silence. I continue on, making my way mindlessly down the massive hall towards my room and my long-awaited bath.

There's a noise behind me, like the soft whisper of wings on tile. Immediately, my heart skips. Lucifer has decided to leave the dinning hall and follow me, possibly to have another go at that wonderful session in the bathtub. I'm barely able to hold back my smile, and I spin around to welcome my dark husband into my arms.

What stands before me is not my husband. He's tall like my husband, though, and nearly as painfully handsome. Wearing nothing but black slacks, his strongly chiseled body and powerful arms are on full display. Snow-white wings are relaxed, splayed out along the dark tile floor. A mass of long wheat-blond hair and piercing blues eyes offset his tanned flesh and chiseled features.

Michael. Holy shit.

I stare at him, swallowing loudly. This can't be good.

He smiles softly at me. "Miss Harlowe, I presume?" His voice is deep, resonating, and simply divine.

I manage to steady myself. Gorgeous as he may be, Michael is not my Lucifer. There's no seductive darkness, no playful evilness about him to stir my hormones awake. He's a squeaky-clean goody two-shoes who cast my husband down into these pits because his dad couldn't handle being questioned. Motherfucker.

I lift my chin an inch. "Your Highness will do, thank you."

His brows rise an inch. "Your Highness? Settling into our role already, are we?"

I scowl a bit. "What could you possibly want? I don't believe your name is on the guest list."

His smile widens, showing two rows of immaculate white teeth. "I come to you on behalf of my father."

Father? Double shit.

I gulp quietly. "What does he want?"

Michael steps forward, his arms swinging wide and his wings fidgeting to life. "What he always wants. To offer you freedom and love and redemption."

"Redemption?" I ask sarcastically. "What do I need to be redeemed? I've done nothing wrong. I never made a deal or killed anyone. Why would I need to be saved?"

Michael shakes his head, his smile never wavering. "Poor innocent Michelle. Forced into marriage with my heartless brother by her mother and crushed by the untimely death of her father. Such a sad trail of misfortune follows you, and all because your mother wanted to be queen."

His tone leaves a bad taste in my mouth. "So? My mom's selfish. Who isn't at some point?"

He comes closer, closing the space between us. I stand my ground; backing away here won't do me any good. If I keep my stance firm, maybe he'll fly away.

"My father isn't," he nearly sings the words. "He never is, was or will be."

I scoff. "I doubt that."

His smile fades into a mask of seriousness. "What makes a loving woman like you say such blasphemous things?"

I stare coldly at him. "Sodom and Gomorrah ring a bell? Or the thousands of people he killed off because they worshipped someone besides him?"

"Such vague references." He's some close enough to me that I can feel the heat -- not an icy chill -- radiating off his skin. "Plague killed off most of those poor souls."

"Uzzah?" I counter. "He touched that ark. He didn't tag the damn thing.

Michael is rendered mute for a moment but recovers. "A foolish act by a man who knew better...but a fair point."

I can't help a small smile. "Thank you. You're too kind."

He starts to slowly circle me, trapping me in my place by extending hid wings to make a barrier. "And you're quite an enigma."

"How so?" I ask sweetly.

"So charming, so graceful, so intelligent, so..." he gives me a once-over, "...physically blessed. I don't understand why you would choose to stay with Lucifer."

I shrug. "He's not as bad as your family makes him out to be."

"Isn't he?" Michael looks at me incredulously. "You've only spent three days with him. I've spent millennia around my brother. I'd like to think I know him a little better than you."

"Maybe, but all you and your dad can see is that bad parts of him," I fire back. "You've forgotten the good person he used to be."

Michael takes a long breath and closes his eyes for an instant. "You're quite insightful for a human, I'll give you that."

Point two for my team.

"I just don't understand why you'd choose to stay here with my brother." Michael resumes his circling. "No doubt he's told you bits and pieces of his past."

I nod. "No details, but he's mentioned a few of his own sins."

Michael scoffs. "His own sins. Ironic how he punishes those who have done the same wrongs as hum."

"Not all of us are being punished for what we have done," I counter

"People like you are the exception, Michelle."

"There's an exception to everything, even your brother." I manage to soften my tone a bit. "He's still your family. Despite what he's done, don't you still love him?"

Michael sighs. "Of course, but I cannot forgive hm. He denounced father and has created hysteria over the entire planet. He's caused so much harm, inflicted so much pain...he's still my brother and I love him, but I'm not sure I could ever welcome him back."

I grit my teeth. "Since we're on the subject of people who've done harm, perhaps your father should be here as well?"

Michael turns away from me, side-stepping from my change of subject. "Why, Michelle? Why do you willingly stay here with him?"

I lift my chin and answer as honestly as I can. "Because he's the only person besides my father and Richard who really cares for me."

Michael screeches to a halt, whipping around to stare at me. "You honestly think he cares about you?"

I nod again. "I do."

"What on earth would make you think such a thing?" His eyes are wide with horrified shock.

My flyspeck of an ego swells slightly. "For one thing, I'm the first queen he's ever had. Surely putting up with me is evidence enough."

"Michelle-" he starts.

"He's also sweet and kind to me." A tiny smile is growing on my lips. "And intelligent and honest."

"That's all a ploy-"

"He's also one hell of a lover." I smirk.

Michael rolls his eyes and groans. "He's simply fooling you! He has no heart or love in him! He's hollow, nothing but hatred and anger! He can't please you at all!"

My hands fly to my hips as I glare at him. "The hell he can't! I don't see you or any of your brothers flying down here to lay me out on a bed."

A soft smile breaks his stoic expression. "With you my dear, believe me when I say I would love to."

Eew. No.

I scoff. "As mach as I'm sure you mean that, I'm afraid I must respectfully decline. I'm far too comfortable with my husband to ever be pulled astray by you."

He smile widens an inch. "Pity. That chest of yours is magnificent."

I nearly burst out laughing. "You are brothers!"

He gives me a confused stare. "How so?"

I shake my head. "Both of your are entranced by my boobs."

Michael gives a sly smile. "I'll give my brother credit, he chose a very entrancing woman as a queen."

I'm honestly flattered by Michael's compliment, but I've had enough of this conversation. Neither of us is going to back down on our view of Lucifer, so we might as well call it a draw and walk away. That will leave us both unharmed and might end the confrontation on a friendlier note.

"You're a very gracious person, Michael, and I respect your passion when speaking about your father," I decided to end this as soon as possible. "But I'm afraid I won't be swayed so easily from my views, either. I'm married to Lucifer, and I've resolved to make the best of it. Despite what you and your family may think, he is still my husband. Until he does harm towards me, I won't turn my back on him."

Michael sighs and shakes his head. "So trusting, even when it's the devil himself. How you humans do it, I will never know."

I shrug. "Your father granted us free will."

"That he did, but I never imagined it would be so misused." His eyes narrow at me. "You decide to stay married to evil rather than join the light?"

I stare at him, offended to my core. "Ted Bundy has killed over thirty women just because he wanted to, and you're singling me out because I'm staying with your brother?"

"Because you willingly choose to stay with Lucifer! Bundy has no choice!" He's pissed now, and I back away a step. "You have all the opportunity in the world to make something great of yourself, and you decide to stay here with my brother! How could you, knowing his past?"

Frightened as I am, I stand my ground. "Because I've seen the slices of good that are still inside him. They're buried under years of shit and anger, but they still exist! Just because you choose not to see them doesn't mean they're totally lost! It doesn't give you the right to chastise me, either!"

His eyes blaze with fury. "Insolent fool! You'll get yourself killed one day because of your trust in him. I know my brother in ways you cannot comprehend! He'll tear your heart out sooner or-"

"What the fuck do you want, Michael?" The deep, rhythmic tone of my husband's voice saves my head from being separated from my shoulders.

I hear his footsteps an instant before he strides up and stands beside me. His bright gold eyes are blazing, and his flawless lips have been disfigured to form a scowl. His enormous ebony wings are spread slightly, casting a shadow across the walls and making his look far more intimidating than he is...if that's even possible.

A sliver of anger fades from Michael's face, replaced by a mixture of fear and absolute loathing. "Your queen and I were simply having a chat."

"That was quite a chat. I could hear your ranting from three floors below." Lucifer's voice is smooth, almost emotionless. I stare at him in wonder. He's got more self-control in his finger that I do in my entire body.

Michael rolls his eyes. "Why have you decided to grace us with your presence? We were almost finished."

Lucifer ignores his inquiry and turns to me. "Are you unharmed?"

I nod, relieved to have backup. "Fine. Pissed, but fine."

He nods, a tiny smile breaking his frozen features. He turns back to Michael. "You didn't come down here just to harass my queen. What does dad want?"

Michael's caught off-guard for an instant, but recovers. "Nothing but your queen. She doesn't belong here, Lucifer."

My husband shrugs. "That's not your call."

"She's still alive, Lucifer! She's an innocent! Why keep her here?"

Michael is getting more frustrated by the minute. The more frustrated he gets, the more irrational and unfocused he gets. That makes him vulnerable to my husband's counter-attack of level-headed fury.

"What happened to her was not her choice, but I believe she said she's willing to work with what she has." Lucifer shoots me a soft smile. "You have no right to deny her a choice, not even that one."

Michael nearly loses it. "That's all you can do. All you could ever do! Question every order you were given, deny every ounce of love father gave you! You took everything for granted and then complained you went through life unloved!"

Lucifer's eyes narrow in anger. "At least I had the balls to question. You just stood there like a mindless sack doing whatever dad told you. You never had the spine to ask anything!"

At this point, I've back myself up a few steps, trying to put some distance between myself and these two sticks of dynamite. I'm more than willing to stand by Lucifer in this argument, but I also know my limits. Technically, I'm human. They're not. If either of them explode, I'm dead.

"I never had to ask! Father was right about everything!"

"He wasn't! He claimed humans were better than us! How can they be? Michelle's own mother sold her to me!"

"They are! They have empathy, life, choice! They have everything we could only ream of!"

"We did have choice. You just chose not to use it!"

My head is spinning, and I can almost feel the rage radiating off of both angels. My husband and Michael are now nose to nose, age-old animosities flaring up again as they try to prove their points. I panic, terrified that the entire room might spontaneously combust. I race over and pull at Lucifer's arm, jerking him back a few inches and throwing a few drops of water on the fuse.

"Please," I beg, "Let's juts go. It's not worth the fight. Neither of you are going to back down, so why waste your breath. Please."

I'm willing to do anything to separate these two, even if it means letting my mother win a game of Monopoly or giving Lucifer a strip-tease. I don't care. I just want to go.

Lucifer stares at me, his eyes still full of fury and anger from their argument. Slowly, though, the ferocity in them fades away, replaced by a soothing calmness so overpowering that makes me wonder if he's got another personality. He turns to Michael, looping one arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

"Yes, you're quite correct. None of this is worth the energy we've spent." He starts to turn away, taking me with him. "We'll leave him to stew in his anger in peace."

"Asshole!" Michael roars behind us. "She'll come to us someday!"

Lucifer wheels around and gives his brother a look that would make Mount Everest crumble. "Come down here and harass my queen again and I will shove that sword of yours so far up your ass father will wonder how your spine became steel."

With that last threatening defense, Lucifer turns, grabs my arm and hauls me out of the corridor. I don't look back to see if Michael is still there. I don't care. I have my husband and we're leaving, which is exactly what I want.

I manage to regain my footing and keep pace with him. I glance up to see his eyes still blazing from the fight, a mask of pure fury carved onto his beautiful face. He's still fuming, and I don't blame him. Michael may be the poster-boy for heaven's might, but he's an asshole in person. I can see why he and Lucifer never got along well.

"What now," I risk opening my mouth.

"We go to our room and cool off." His voice is cold, emotionless.

We reach the door to our room in what feels like seconds. It swings open just long enough for us to step inside, then slams shut and locks. I stop just onside the door, watching Lucifer pull away and start pacing the room. He's beyond furious, not at me, but at his brother for coming down into his domain and trying to steal away his queen. I feel no anger or annoyance towards him. Any rational man would be upset after that.

That said, I can't watch him pace the floor like a trapped animal. It makes me nervous. I want him to calm down faster, to cool off quickly enough that we'll still have time to roll around in bed. I square my shoulders and walk over to him, gripping his wrist and pulling him towards the bed. He resists at first, but acquiesces and follows me back.

I reach the bed and spin around, sitting down on the soft blankets the line the enormous oak structure. With Lucifer staring at me dispassionately, I reach up and hook my hands on his shoulders, gently forcing him to his knees. He crumbles easily, collapsing to the floor and gazing at me with hollow, empty eyes.

Fuck. That's creepy as hell.

I loop my arms around his neck and pull him forward, guiding him to the front of my dress. If I know Lucifer, then my body will do wonders to calm him down. His cool cheek presses against my breasts and I hold him there, running my fingers through his messy hair. He relaxes almost immediately, turning his head so he can press his nose against my skin and breathe me in. He nuzzles the skin of my breasts, and a soft smile finally arrives on his lips.

"If I had the ability to die," he whispers against my skin, "I would suffocate myself in your breasts and die a happy man."

I relax a bit and smile myself. "Please don't. I'd have to sleep here alone."

He groans happily and pulls away, looking up at me apologetically. "I'm sorry about that argument. Something about Michael always seems to set me off."

I run my fingers through his hair again. "I understand. He pisses me off, too."

His smile widens a bit. "Anything I could do to help my distressed queen?"

I pause, the gears in my head starting to spin. My curiosity builds, the reckless teenage side of my conscience daring me to ask for something insane. My rational side stares in horror, begging that I return to sanity and ask for something normal. I stare at him and chew my lip, stalling for time while my two halves fight for supremacy.

Lucifer's smile falls a bit, his eyes turning worried worried. "Michelle?"

With one final shove, my reckless side claims the crown. "Mind if I blow off a little steam?"

"Blow off a little..." His eyes narrow in confusion, then widen with hope. "I do hope you're implying what I think you are."

I smile and nod.

He stares at me with wide, thunderstruck eyes. Behind his shocked expression, I can almost hear the 'Fuck, yes!' echoing in his mind. A tiny smile breaks on my lips. I've hit a sweet spot.

He takes along breath, trying to conceal his excitement. "If that's what you want."

Spurred on by his enthusiasm, I nod and reach behind my back, scrabbling for the velvet ties of my dress. Lucifer laughs and rises his feet, pulling me off the bed and spinning me around.

"Allow me," he breathes against my neck.

"Please," I whisper back.

He works quickly, pulling the ribbons apart and helping me out of the pool of fabric. He grins like a child at Christmas, and I can only stare and admire his superior beauty. How I'm able to look him in the eyes and remain sane is a mystery.

He leans in for a kiss, but my libido is already fired up and has no time for games. I shake my head and gently shoe him towards the bed. He stumbles a bit, then regains his balance and smiles wickedly at me.

"Take off your pants and sit down," I'm almost pleading for him to comply.

He barks out a laugh. "Yes, ma'am!"

He strips quickly and tosses his jeans aside, collapsing into the bed and grinning at me. His cock stands straight as a pole, proud and strong and ready to go. I giggle at his childlike excitement. There's something so innocent and untainted about him when it comes to sex, like every time is his first. It's charming, honestly.

I step over to the bed, kneeling down in front of him. He's grinning like a madman, practically shaking with anticipation. I'm excited, too. I actually like sucking him off. With Lucifer, it grants me a rare moment of control, as well as allowing me to tease him for once.

"I didn't know I was that good. You're almost bouncing." I can't suppress giggling at his enthusiasm.

His smile never fades. "I have my reasons for liking your mouth."