Page 100 of Broken Shadows

She brings her face closer to mine, then spits, “I don’t believe you. I know you’ve been protecting the witch.”

“I’m not.”

“Then prove it,” she hisses, her fingers dancing into the ruffles of her white dress. “Kiss me.”

“I’d rather tear out my tongue,” I snarl, and she swallows thickly. “I don’t want her, or you.”

“You will never see your dad,” she replies with a shake of her head as she steps out of my proximity. “He’s mine and for as long as he is, I’ll never let you know peace for what you did to me. You destroyed my life.” Tears gloss her eyes, and I realize she doesn’t recall how she treated me. No, she just remembers the bad thingsIdid to her. “You pretended to be my friend. You made me love you, and then you tossed me aside like I was nothing.”

I lean in and whisper, “And does Samuel or my dad know about that?”

She shakes her head. “They know we were friends, and you threatened me.”

I chuckle darkly. “You’ve left out quite a bit.”

Her smile wavers, lips quivering as she attempts to pull herself together, but she can’t rid herself of the twitch in her eye. Perhaps she convinced herself that seeing me after all this time would be easier. She wipes the single tear trickling down her cheek onto the back of her hand and sniffs. “I won’t let you break me again. I died because of you, because I had to lock you away after you refused to… well, you pretended to love me.”

“I never did that,” I snap. “I used your friendship, yes, but I never showed that I was fucking interested.”

“You did.”

“You invented an entire convoluted romance in your head,” I yell, placing my fingers to my temples. “You were a fucking anchor around my neck, Eva. I didn’t care about you then, and I sure as fuck don’t care about you now.”

She juts her chin. An icy coolness seeps into her expression before the mask of apathy returns. Except now she looks as evil as Samuel, with pointed, dark eyes.

A waft of spicy cinnamon and rich, buttery dough pinches the air around my nose. At first, I think someone must have lit a candle, until I hear clashing in the next room of metal trays hitting the ground.

Dad’s voice filters through the door. “Bugger it, damned things.”

The door opens and Lucifer walks in, a tray in one hand, a second on the floor, with cinnamon buns everywhere.

He hasn’t aged a day in the last century. In fact, he looks a few years younger than I remember.

Patches of flour douse the dark curls against his forehead, and cling to his gray and black trimmed beard. His silver eyes—a hallmark of an angel, even a fallen one—meet mine. Placing the buns that didn’t fall on the table, he extends his arms out in a warm gesture as he walks to me.

My eyes widen, fear piercing through my veins as he pulls me into a hug. A fucking cuddle.

“My boy,” he says, patting me on the back. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon cling to the flowery apron of lilies and black dahlias, covering his white shirt and black pants. “One of my demons told me you’d returned to court. I didn’t believe it, but here you are.”

Evangeline forces a smile, putting several feet between me and her. “Hi, my love. I was just coming to tell you your son was here.”

He waves a hand in her direction. “Get my other sons, Darling. We’re going to have a ball tonight.”

She sucks in a deep breath, holds it, then says with forced cloying, “Another ball?”

“Of course. It’s a celebration. All my sons are back home, where they belong.” He steps back to get a proper look at me, and I hold still, not sure what to say or do. “I’d worried we’d lost you to the Human Realm for good.”

My brows quirk up behind my mask, my eyes flitting from him to Evangeline. Did he really believe I was in the Human Realm this entire time?

My brain fritzes, quickly catching up after struggling to process him just walking in on us. “Evangeline said you were not to be disturbed.”

“That was Samuel,” she adds quickly. “We know you’ve been so busy, working on your project.”

“Cinnamon buns,” he announces. “I had the perfect recipe some centuries ago but lost it somewhere in the Human Realm.” He shakes his head. “No matter, no matter. My oldest son has finally returned.”

He wraps me in another hug, and this time I allow it, fold into it, and close my eyes. Every crevice of my chest aches. Ever since Evie cracked it open, it’s like I can’t force the desire of more than lust out of it.

It’s fucking painful to love. It hurts so godsdamn much that I want to tear the organ out of its bone prison.

---