The Fall of the Prince: MMMM Why Choose Romance ✅

Chapter Eight

**This has not been edited or proofread.**

Lucifer

I jerked back in surprise when one of Death's skeletal reapers appeared right in front of my desk. "Jesus Christ," I muttered, glaring at him. "Could you knock next time?"

The reaper flashed his teeth at me and knocked on the top of my desk. "Knock, knock," he mocked me. I scowled at him. "Death needs you."

Immediately, my irritation fell away, and I stood from my desk, nodding once at the reaper. "Thank you." I closed my eyes and pictured Death's home in my mind. My body separated by the atoms before coming back together in front of Death's gloomy home. I pushed open the heavy, dark door before stepping into the stone entryway.

I followed the feel of him to his bedroom. Asmodeus was sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching as Death changed his shirt. His wings had retraced into his back, but his muscles were tense. Bright blue still ran through his veins, so I knew his reaper was still close to the surface.

"Hey," I greeted, smiling softly at the prince of demons.

He lifted a hand and waved at me. Death turned to face me as he buttoned his shirt. "I need you to sit here with him, if you can. I don't want him alone. I wouldn't leave, but I've been sent a new fucking reaper."

I nodded. "Okay. Beelzebub can deal with my paperwork."

Death snorted and then tugged me against him. I moaned low in my throat when his lips smoothed over mine. He didn't deepen the kiss, and there was nothing passionate about it, but my body responded all the same.

"Take care of him," Death quietly ordered, his ice-blue eyes boring into mine.

I clasped his waist, gently squeezing. "I will. I promise."

I watched as he walked over to Asmodeus and cupped the prince's cheek in his hand. "Call on me if you need me. I'll come immediately," Death swore.

Asmodeus nodded. "I will."

Death stroked his thumb over Asmodeus's cheek before disappearing as if he'd never been in the room in the first place. I walked over and sat on Death's very comfortable bed, leaning against the headboard. I patted the spot beside me, and Asmodeus moved to sit next to me, our shoulders brushing. Warmth spread through my body at his proximity, and when he glanced at me for a split second, I knew he felt it, too.

We were quiet for a few moments before he eventually broke it. "Do you think I'll ever go back to normal?" Asmodeus asked. "My mind feels broken. I'm supposed to rule over demons—creatures that have no remorse and need a firm hand. But I'm terrified to just step outside of these four fucking walls."

I sighed. "I don't think you'll ever be who you once were," I told him honestly. "Trauma is fickle like that. But I think your demons will follow you anyway. Because they trust you. You're their prince; the only person they trust one hundred percent."

He looked over at me. "You really think so?"

I nodded and wrapped my arm around his broad shoulders. "I do."

He leaned against me, shutting his eyes. "Leviathan has a habit of showing up in my dreams when I sleep," he confessed. "But I'm too tired to fight it any longer."

I stroked my hand over his long, inky black hair. "If he shows up in your dream, I'll show up, too," I promised him. A smirk played on my lips, and warmth surged in my veins, my Hell form close to the surface. "It's been a good minute since I've seen my brother."

Asmodeus snuggled closer to me. "You're warm."

I chuckled, letting my Hell form remain close to the surface. "That's my hell form." I stroked my hand down his arm. "When you heal some, I bet your demonic form will come back."