Chapter Twenty-One

Hawthorne

Aamon paces the tight living quarters, his wings flickering restlessly. The air is thick with tension as a suffocating silence hangs in the room. Lilith and Luce are each sitting in two separate wingback chairs, each sharing solemn looks.

"What is this about?" Aamon finally stops in front of them, breaking the silence with barely restrained fury. "Don't waste my time with pleasantries."

Lilith's lips curl into a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Straight to the point, as always, hun. It was an endearing trait if it didn't piss me right the fuck off." She leans back in her chair, crossing her legs leisurely.

Luce has been watching Aamon pace with hollow eyes, almost as if he is burdened by the weight of his own thoughts. "We need Thorne, Aamon." He stands, slowly crossing toward Aamon before placing a gentle hand upon his arm. "The two of you together can accomplish so much. All of Hell's food sources are dwindling, and our people are suffering."

Aamon jerks his arm away from Luce. "Don't you think I know that?" His words are bitter.

"Hell isn't the self-sustaining realm it used to be. Our lands are barren; the water is tainted. We need someone with Thorne's abilities, and combined with your power, we can restore our supplies."

Lucifer slowly walks to Lilith's side, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Thorne is someone we can trust, Aamon. Surely, you can feel the difference. He is much better than Sinead."

It feels so odd to sit watching as they speak about me as if I'm invisible. There is nothing my input would change, so I sit patiently on the tattered couch.

The mention of her name makes Aamon's fists ball by his sides as if an old wound has been scratched open. "Sinead was loyal to me, but you had her murdered."

Hearing Aamon's tone soften as he says her name creates an ache in my chest. It seems he truly loved her and was devastated that she was killed.

"Loyalty? Is that what you think that was?" Lilith's laughter is shrill, almost cruel. Her gaze sharpens as the playfulness she often holds disappears. "Aamon, you are so na?ve. You think with your cock more than your brain."

Lucifer picks up where Lilith leaves off, his tone matter-of-fact. "We discovered Sinead was slowly poisoning you. She thought if you were weakened, she could eventually gain more power from you. She was manipulating you."

"What?" The word falls from Aamon's lips, barely a whisper, as if he could hardly comprehend them. He staggers backward as if the weight of the revelation feels too heavy.

My breathing halts, and I stand without thinking. Before I know it, I'm beside Aamon, holding his arm, stroking soft circles onto his skin.

Lilith's gaze softens. It's surprising to see a tender look on her face. "We had no choice but to kill her."

Aamon's breathing hitches, as does mine. The look of utter betrayal upon his features feels cruel to witness. He should have been allowed to have this moment without me beside him. Though I am shocked when his hand wraps around my waist, pulling me taut to his side. "You should have told me."

"Would you have believed us if we had? You were too blinded by your feelings to see her nature. We did what we did to protect you, even if that meant you despised us."

Aamon's chest heaves as he fights off the wave of emotion he's consumed by. "And now you wish to use Thorne to bind him here?"

"No," Lucifer says with calculation. "We want you to work together. With your combined efforts, you can give Hell a chance. We can't keep him here indefinitely, but he can come in the winter in his world, the summer in ours. We need him, Aamon."

My mind spins, trying to reconcile the truth they lay before us. They propose allowing me to stay, even if that means once a season. The weight of everything they ask of us bears down on me, though there is a purpose there waiting for me to find.

The silence that follows is thick and unbearable. My mind races, and my emotions are a mess of hurt, fear, and resolve. Underneath it all, there is a truth that I can be of service, and I may remain with Aamon.

"I trust you," I say, finally breaking my silence. "I want to be of service."

Aamon growls, his eyes searching mine, though I refuse looking at him for too long. My mind is made up.

"Fine." His words are like gravel in his throat: "If anyone so much as lays a hand on him…"

Lucifer holds up his hand, cutting him off. "We will never allow anyone to harm him. In our realm or his."

"You're asking me to trust you." Aamon's voice is low, still rough with emotion. "After everything?"

Grasping his hand tighter, I give it a gentle squeeze, hoping it pacifies his anxiety. This is what I wish for myself. My life has always lacked purpose, and I have always felt inferior. Having this role, albeit in Hell, will allow me to live my life with distinction.

"We are asking you to do what's necessary," Lilith corrects, her eyes locked on the pair of us. "This is not just for your people, Aamon; this is for Thorne. It could possibly be for you too if you would pull your head out of your ass. You're allowed to keep him with you."

Despite Lilith's harsh exterior and her uncanny ability to make every word sound like a threat, I sense, beneath it all, she has a kind heart. She and Luce must have loved Aamon deeply to find a way for us to stay together, even if only to help save their people.

I glance at Aamon, my heart swelling with gratitude, and nod with a broad smile on my face.