The slap of Zeus’s large palm against her cheek sent Diana flying backward, crashing into the sturdy trunk of a birch tree.
A howl erupted, shaking the ground. She’d heard that once before... within the mountain. Her father must’ve had no clue what real wrath looked like, but he was about to find out.
Instead of the great Archangel of Light unleashing on Zeus, they were surrounded by what must’ve been several of Ares’s most elite battalions with swords drawn—all pointing at Lucifer.
Apollo was the first to back away. With a sad smile, he whispered something into Lucifer’s ear that made the angel’s golden skin tone fade. His breath came in sharp bursts. He was withholding his fury... but why?
A wicked grin crept up one side of her beloved twin’s face as his eyes darted from Lucifer to her. With swift steps, he was beside her, hauling her to her feet. “Sister, come with me while your beau and our father come to terms.”
“Terms?” she spit out. “What are you talking about? Doesn’t Father realize the angel will annihilate him in an instant? He has no chance...”
Her voice died away. Stalking toward her was a large, hulking figure with downy light-gray wings spread out to their full width and two flaming swords in his hands.
Olivier! He was alive!
For a moment, Diana dared to believe he was there to assist Lucifer, to squash her father like a pesky bug. But those dazzling, glowing green eyes were not on Zeus... they were laser-focused on his angelic brother.
When he passed her by, his glare cut to her. “Did you not think sin had consequences, little one? Well, now you and your lover must pay to atone. I do not wish you harm, nor pain. But in this instance, you will learn the gravity of a daughter breaking her father’s laws. And my brother will learn the price of rebellion.”
Chapter 36
Becoming the Devil
Peaceful tranquility stole over Lucifer’s heart. Something hammered against his skull that he should be ripping people apart—those responsible for separating him from his love... from Diana. Instead, the divine soothing grace of the Creator flowed through him.
Olivier had said some harsh things. Zeus and Ares had said... more likely yelled... far worse. All the while, he knew that all was well in divine truth. His own father had spoken to him inside the mountain when he’d threatened to bring the world down in his fit of anger.
He now understood the truth. He was free to love Diana. There was no sin in love. Too bad the others had not received the same epiphany. It was all a horrid misunderstanding that would be fixed, if only they’d listen. Then he would reunite with Diana, and they would live happily ever after.
The waiting, however, grated on his patience like a loofah sponge against the skin. Who was he to question divine timing? Patience would be something he would indeed need to relearn. Perhaps this was the time for that lesson to take root. When he’d thought he’d roar to bring down the palace walls at the pinnacle of his impatience, a sharp, stabbing pain had pierced his heart, knocking him to his knees.
He'd come to the realization it was probably the Creator’s way of encouraging him to calm his worries and racing emotions with prayer. Lucifer had kneeled before a window overlooking a sparkling pool decorated with lovely white lilies, openly confessing his sins, seeking release from them, and a peaceful serenity had overcome him.
Day had fallen to night with no further word from Olivier. Now the great sun had risen once again, casting brilliant displays of light over the gardens and multicolored auras played in the swirls of the water. Jasmine and lavender perfumes floated into the well-appointed room with a large circular bed which he had not bothered to attempt to sleep in, no matter how inviting the silk sheets were to his weary physical body. Instead, he’d spent the night sending love energy from his heart out to Diana in the hopes of quelling any fears she might have.
They hadn’t bothered to chain him or stash him away in a dungeon. No harm had come to him, despite the death glares from Ares. In fact, he’d been well cared for since his arrival. Smiling servants had brought in fresh food and drink. A giant marble tub had been filled with steaming water for a bath—something he had needed.
The only cause for concern was that he’d expected his brother to bring news by now. Even if he didn’t believe the Creator had revealed the truth of angelic love not being an aberration, Olivier’s love for him would not have kept him absent for this long.
The heavy iron door to his quarters banged open, shaking Lucifer from his reverie—he’d been gazing out the window, dreaming of the happiness to come when he could take Diana in his arms again.
He leaped to his feet. But Lucifer’s peaceful mood evaporated at the sight of his brother, Olivier, his face contorted with fury.
“Thank the Creator, you’re alive!” Olivier rushed to Lucifer and enveloped him in a bear hug that nearly squeezed his spirit out of his physical vessel. “I feared the worst.”
A chill permeated Lucifer’s soul. His vision went blank, and all sounds ceased. Willing himself to regain control, he gripped Olivier by the ridge of his tarnished chest plate. “What happened?”
The always confident, stoic Olivier’s face crumbled. He burst into uncontrolled sobs. “I’m sorry, brother. I failed you. I... I should have known. Those dirty bastard gods... I’m sorry.”
Lucifer shook Olivier, then threw him against the far wall, smashing the tub still filled with water that had never grown cold. Wafts of steam spread out in all directions before turning to tiny flakes of ice that pinged on the ground.
“What. Happened?” He stalked to his fallen brother, picked him up, and slammed him against the wall again, causing a split to spiderweb from the point of contact up to the ceiling.
“I received the Creator’s divine ruling which”—Lucifer tightened his grip on Olivier’s throat—“absolved you and Diana of sin. But... but when I relayed the proclamation to Zeus...”
Lucifer let Olivier slide to the ground, still holding him by the collar of his armor. “What did Zeus do?” he ground out between clenched teeth.
Olivier buried his head in his hands, sobs continuing to rack his giant body.
