We reappeared in a bedroom. But it was not any normal bedroom. Normal people didn’t line their walls with a frightening array of weaponry from across the world. If he knew how to use half of these weapons, he was practically a one-man army. And I knew instinctively that this room belonged to Marcus.

As if I didn’t already have enough reason to panic.

“Hush, babygirl. You’re alright, you’re safe. No angels here, trust me.” Marcus smiled wryly at the last statement. If I were normal, the flash of fang in his smile would’ve sent me into a full-blown panic attack. But that smile, so genuine and handsome, made my heart skip a beat. When he smiled like that at me, it made me forget the secrets, made me forget how broken I was.

When my breathing continued to get more rapid, he frowned.

“Hold your breath for a moment, sweetling-that’s it. Now out. Hold your breath…That’s a good girl.”

Slowly, without any conscious effort on my part, in his arms and under his direction, my breathing returned to normal. I was able to think rationally again. So why in creation did I still want to stay enveloped in those perfectly sculpted arms?

How long did it take for Stockholm Syndrome to kick in?

Finally, I found it in me to struggle. “Let go of me, you-you freak!” I spat, though I hated to say the words.

Marcus chuckled, his chest rumbling against me pleasantly. I did my best to ignore the sensation.

“Not just yet. I’m enjoying this too much.” He tightened his grip, nuzzling his face into my hair and breathing deep. “This freak rather enjoys having you at his mercy.”

I growled in frustration, kicking out at his shin. He ignored it, not so much as flinching.

“What even are you?” I asked after a moment, “you almost look like one of my brothers, but you’re different.”

“I’m a daemon,” he lied, his palms running up and down my back as he spoke. “I serve as the right hand to Lucifer.”

I’m sure he felt me stiffen at the name. If my father, the “golden boy” of Heaven, was the way he was…how much worse must the angel that had been cast out of Heaven be? And how awful a creature would serve as his second? I’d almost forgotten where I was, who had taken me. My blood ran like ice water in my veins at the thought.

Looking again at the weapons on display, I asked resignedly, “So are you the one assigned to torture me?”

His hands flew up to grip the sides of my face, his eyes boring intensely into mine. Those dark eyes, no matter how unsettling, stripped away more and more of my defenses the longer they remained on me, and soon I was fighting back tears.

I said no weakness!

I tried to jerk my face free, but he held me firm, and despite my best efforts, my eyes began to water. I clenched my teeth and fought them back, only partially successfully. One tear coursed down my cheek, and Marcus’ eyes softened, his thumb wiping it gently away. His calloused hands on my face filled me with a foreign sense of safety.

“There isn’t anything wrong with crying, babygirl. And you need never feel any shame when you cry with me.”

Weakness, weakness, weakness.

“Do you enjoy seeing me cry? I’ll bet you’re plotting the best way to rend my flesh with those weapons to draw more tears from me.” I spat the words, though the concept made me want to curl up into a ball. But he had to know I was onto him, that I wasn’t weak.

Powerful males like him preyed on weakness, thrived on it. His cruelty would only grow if I let it.

But it seemed he was determined to keep surprising me, because instead of a suitably sadistic response, the “daemon” only flinched at my words. As if they pained him as much as they did me.

“No one will hurt you here, sweetling. That is a promise.” He growled the words, looking deeply into my eyes, “you are safe here, I swear it.”

He wasn’t lying. But how could that possibly be the truth?

“Yet you are not a daemon, as you claim. How can I trust the word of a liar?”

I did not feel any satisfaction at his recoiling, like I expected. I almost felt…guilty? This man defied expectation at every turn, and I did not appreciate it.

I backed away from him as he took in my accusation, instantly feeling more at ease with him at arm’s length. I ignored the profound sense of loss that accompanied that relief. It was as if my very soul were conflicted.

“I did not lie.” He smiled convincingly through his denial, but I just sighed. They always said that.

“Yes, you did. I can always tell the truth from lies.” I was not sure of much at this moment, but my abilities never failed me. “I don’t know what’s so terrible that you will not admit to being it, but you are no daemon. You may look like one, but it is a lie.”

I braced myself for abuse; verbal or physical, it made no difference. The reaction to anyone being called out in a lie was always violent.

But Marcus just grinned widely, chuckling deeply and shaking his head.

“Perhaps I am a troll, babygirl. Or a vampire that sparkles. Who knows? I could be an angel, or a god, or a werewolf.” The clever bastard winked. Because of the way he’d phrased each sentence as an uncertain possibility, rather than a statement, I could not discern any truths from the list.

Perhaps I should not have revealed my ability so quickly. It was a tactical error; one I wouldn’t repeat.

“You say you can tell the truth from lies,” he murmured, his eyes boring into mine as if I were the only thing that mattered. “Then know this; I will never harm you. I swear on my life and on my scythe that I will always protect you.”

It was a truth so powerful, stated with such conviction that I felt my heart stutter in my chest. There could be no doubt that he genuinely meant each word he spoke. I could feel that flicker of hope he’d so carefully cultivated in my chest flare into a raging forest fire.

Perhaps…I really could trust this male.

“How did you find me?” I asked the question that had been bouncing through my skull since I found out the identity of the “Marcus” the devil had spoken of. I’d been far enough away from the place we’d met, and there was no way he could’ve tracked me with my warding.

“We tracked you.”

Excuse me, what?

“Not possible,” I muttered, and Marcus coughed.

“Not usually, yes,” he agreed, tugging a lock of my hair, long and dark like that of my mother’s. “But you and I have a special link, and Hell employs a powerful mage. Even your warding couldn’t hide you.”

“What sort of bond is that powerful?” I wondered, allowing myself to momentarily let go of my fear. “I didn’t know you before this, and not even a blood tie would’ve pierced my warding. I made sure of that.”

Marcus’ brow furrowed at my words, his dark, bottomless eyes searching my face as if he expected to find something my words wouldn’t reveal. After a beat of silence, he shook his head in disbelief.

“That explains why you thought I would torture you,” he grunted, worrying a strand of my hair between his fingertips. “You’re my mate, babygirl.”

“Mates? Like, friends?” I muttered, wrinkling my nose.

The corner of Marcus’ mouth tipped up wryly.

“Not quite. Mates as in soulmates, babygirl. God-given life partners.”

I scoffed at his absurdity, “God-given whatsis? That’s ridiculous.”

The male’s pale face twisted in pain, fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t know what I’m talking about.”

I tilted my head, confused. “Should I?”

“Yes,” Marcus growled, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “Your father was an angel, and you don’t know what mates are.”

The heat of Marcus’ eyes pierced me to my core. I shivered, shifting my weight from side to side nervously. I’d had males look upon me with lust in their eyes before, their searching looks and disgusting leers had inspired nothing but revulsion. But Marcus’ lingering gaze was so much more than theirs had been; more intense, more heated, and infinitely more pleasant. His attention made my belly clench and a warm fuzziness build in my chest. Incredibly, I liked his eyes on me. When they left, which they rarely did, I felt cold.

“It’s true then? You think we’re, what, meant for each other?” I could scarcely believe it. There was no way it could be true.

The concept was reasonable enough; my life had been strange enough up to this point. Fated soulmates wasn’t exactly the oddest thing I’d had to accept as the truth. But how in creation could I possibly be the fated match of this male?

From what I’d seen of him, he was a smidge hot-tempered, but he was so much more than that. He was genuine, other than his peculiar lie about his identity, and gentle, and patient. And, if the interactions he’d had with both the triplets and the devil were any indication, he was fiercely protective.

And what was I? I was the daughter of a stripper with a heart of gold and an angel with one as black as death. I was an assassin with dozens of kills under my belt, but inside I was weak. Deep down I was a worthless, broken weakling. Once he found that out, how could he ever look at me as his equal, as someone worthy of him?

He couldn’t.

And, to top it all off, my siblings would never stop hunting me. There were so many of them, each more powerful than the last. Like dogs with a bone, they’d never give up. Even in Hell, I wouldn’t be safe for long. My siblings had access to all my father’s connections, and, as a prominent and respected archangel of Heaven, there was no shortage of those.

“I don’t think, Kaiah, I know,” He growled with a new, wild look on his face, like he couldn’t bare the idea of me doubting it. “And if you don’t like it, you can make your complaints, but it won’t change anything.”

I shrunk back at both his forceful tone and use of my name before I could stop myself. I kicked myself, straightening my spine, but the male’s keen eyes missed nothing. His demeanor softened immediately; his palms held upward in a gesture of peace.

“Sorry, babygirl,” he cooed, running the backs of his knuckles gently across my cheek, sending shivers throughout my whole body. “I don’t mean to be so harsh. Believe it or not, I’m usually the laid-back one around here.”

An incredulous giggle burst forth before I could stop it, making Marcus’ whole face light up. Without realizing it, I’d completely dropped my guard around this male. Between his heartfelt promise to protect me and his steady, comforting presence, I’d lost myself.

“Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sound,” he said quietly, before locking eyes and addressing me seriously. “I want you to know; I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m not normally patient, but for you I’ll try.”

“That’s a surprisingly lenient point of view.”

Was I…teasing him? Creation, I’d almost forgotten how to do that. I was taken aback to discover that I found it fun.

Marcus broke out into a full-on grin at this. “Let’s just say I learned from watching a dumbass and his mate. I won’t be making those same mistakes.”

An outraged gasp was all the warning we were given before the door to Marcus’ room burst open.

“Don’t you call my mate a dumbass, even if it’s slightly true!”

I’d already drawn my knife before I had the chance to register the wild red curls and giant personality that had made herself known. Marcus had my wrist in a gentle grip before I could blink, taking the dagger from my hand.

“Sorry to confiscate this, sweetling, but you were about to stab the Queen of Hell, which is a bit of a no-no.”

Queen of Hell?

“Yeah, please don’t draw any blood, it makes Wings cranky, and I’ve already hit my cranky quota for the week.” She mock-shuddered, “my ass literally can’t take that.”

Not a particularly queenly queen.

“There are other reasons to not want to get stabbed…and why am I trying to talk sense into you?” Marcus shook his head good-naturedly, scowling sternly at her, “on to more important issues. Were you eavesdropping?”

Amirykal gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “How dare you! You would besmirch my character like that? You fiend!”

Marcus was not impressed.

“Well, were you?”

“Oh, totally,” She replied in her normal voice, unfazed. “couldn’t resist. But technically I’m here to welcome your mate to Castle Death.”

I blanched at the name.

Seeing my distress, Marcus hurried to reassure me, “That’s not the actual name, Ammi just thinks she’s funny.”

Amirykal just waved a dismissive hand, “I know it’s technically called ox dabli or some Latin bullshit-”

“Ex Diaboli,” Marcus muttered under his breath. “Aren’t you supposed to be learning Latin?”

Ammi continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “Which I guess means ‘of the devil’, but Wings’ ego is already too big for this dimension, so I call it Castle Death.”

“I’m just fine showing her around myself,” Marcus interrupted, thankfully changing the subject. I got the sense that Ammi was easily distractible.

Ammi glared at him accusingly, replying sternly, “Yeah, no. Luce needs to speak with you anyways-I expect both of you to put your dicks away and apologize by dinnertime, or I’ll start kicking some ass. Plus, I’m sure she could use some space from you.”

As much as I found myself enjoying Marcus’ company, she was right. He was making me feel so many things so fast…I needed time to process.

“Can I have my own room, too?” I interjected, somewhat timidly. With Marcus, I had no clue to what his reaction might be. He was so intense, but he had promised to give me time.

Marcus’ expression was unreadable. “If that’s what you want.”

“Damn right, you can!” Ammi told me firmly, taking my arm in a companionable manner. “Let’s go pick one out right now! Fuck knows we have enough space.”

She proceeded to tow me from the room, her whole body practically vibrating with her excitement. As we left, I chanced a look backwards at the male who had begun to shake up my whole world. His fists were clenched, his body locked up tight as he forced himself not to follow. But still, he managed a tight smile, warming my heart before the door shut and he was taken from my view.