“We can talk about the details later.”
“Wait.” He pulled back far enough to look at me. “I just need you to tell me one thing. Why are you here instead of back in Heaven? I was told Lucifer would let you go.” His gaze drifted to something behind me, and his eyes narrowed, I assumed on the demon prince in the hallway.
I placed a hand on Joriel’s cheek, drawing his attention back to me. “I was given that option, but I didn’t want to go without you. Where you go, I go. I don’t care if that’s Heaven or Hell or anywhere in between. If we never make it out of here, I’m okay with that, as long as I’m with you. I meant it when I said I wanted to be by your side for the rest of my life.”
“Yeah, I’m going to need those details now.”
We sat on the floor, me sitting in Joriel’s lap, and talked about everything that had happened since we were separated while Prince Beautiful stood watching us.
“We don’t have to go back,” I said softly. “We could just stay here. Close the cell door.”
Joriel shook his head. “You deserve better than that.”
“So do you.”
“But I’m the one who’s stuck here. I don’t want you to lose the rest of your life because of my mistake.”
I laid my head against his shoulder, pulling one of his hands into my lap and slowly unwinding the wrap around it. “What happened?”
“It’s mostly to protect my palms when I do push-ups.”
“Mostly?”
“I may have also punched the door a handful of times when I first got here.”
Flecks of dried blood rained down as the fabric pulled away from his skin. The knuckles were scabbed over but didn’t look too bad. I brought his hand to my lips before reaching for the other one.
The dried blood had glued the fabric of the wrap on his right hand to the skin, and I felt the scab break as I removed the fabric.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he assured me, not even bothering to look down.
The cloth fell away from his knuckles, which now seepedgoldenblood. “Joriel, look.” I couldn’t take my eyes off his hand to see if he was, in fact, seeing what I was.
“Can I see your dagger?” he asked finally.
“What?”
“Please, Laila.”
I slid the blade from the sheath at my thigh and handed it to him, watching as he made a slice in his arm. More golden blood welled up from the cut.
“Does this mean…?”
“I have a soul,” Joriel finished. “I think so. My blood turned black after Lucifer claimed my soul. If it’s gold again, that should mean it belongs to God now.”
“Holy shit,” Prince Beautiful said, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against during my and Joriel’s reunion. “How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Joriel said, his gaze turning hard as he looked up at the demon.
“You must have. Lucifer would never give up his claim on your soul willingly.” He turned his attention to me. “Did you do it?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of. If his soul belongs to God again, does that mean we’re both free to leave Hell?”
Prince Beautiful nodded, still looking a little stunned. “It should. You’ll still have to go back up the stairs, but Lucifer has no claim over either of you. He can’t keep you here without breaking both the laws of Hell and laws of war with Heaven.”
“So we just have to make it up the stairwell of nightmares,” I said, thinking aloud.
