Revealing the Monster (Playing with Monsters #4) by Amelia Hutchins

I was being held captive by the man I loved, the same prick repeatedly making choices for me. Lucian didn’t ask me or even consider that I may want something else. He continued to do what he thought was best, and those decisions were huge and held life and death matters. He’d protected the coven for me, knowing all along what he was going to do. So why do it at all?

It didn’t make sense, which made my brain itch and my heart ache.

Then there was Lucifer.

The bastard, who had brutally used my sister, impregnated her with a Nephilim and then stole her while Kendra lay bleeding out. Now, he seemed the perfect father. He actually seemed to care about Makenna, and he’d kept the name Kendra had chosen for her. Lucian assumed it was all an act, but I didn’t think it was.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Fucking monsters!

Tears filled my eyes, slowly running down my cheeks as a soft sob of frustration and confusion flittered through me. I wanted to scream and beg Lucian to explain his actions and why he’d done what he had to me. I needed to understand his choices because I was helplessly in love with him, and I wasn’t certain we’d make it through this if he’d just stepped aside, choosing to allow my family to be murdered.

I felt the weightlessness before my head spun. My eyes blinked, and a shudder rushed down my spine as I peered around at white marble walls that sparkled like diamonds. Huge pillars sat inside the room, with silver mineral veins running through them. Radiohead’s Creep played through speakers low but soothingly. I shivered again, dragging my gaze to the shadows where Lucifer stood.

He watched me through dark, indigo-colored eyes. He was shirtless, with messy hair that looked as if he’d spent hours pushing his fingers through it. He exhaled but didn’t make a move to clear the distance to where I had appeared on the altar. His stare was pensive, as if he regretted something. Luc scanned down my body, his eyes heating at the small, thin gown I wore, which left a lot more flesh exposed than should be in his presence. His gaze rolled back up to my face, a frown tugging on his full, sensual mouth.

If lust had an image, then Luc’s father had dipped him into the jar, sprinkled him in sin, and unleashed him out on womankind everywhere. Everything about him was created perfectly, right down to the stubborn set of his strong jawline and washboard abs that slid to a seductive, pronounced V-line, vanishing into his pants.

“You’re so gorgeous, Magdalena,” he whispered huskily, pushing off of the wall to walk toward the altar.

“I wasn’t dreaming this time, Luc,” I replied, uncertain how he’d pulled me to him without my consciousness being lowered. I usually had to be drifting into stasis or deep within it for him to yank me to him.

“No, you weren’t. You were crying, and I couldn’t stand the salt of your tears. I shouldn’t have told you what Lucian did. I find it difficult to taste your pain lately. Normally, I enjoy it and creating tension between you and him, but not this time.”

“You’re the Devil,” I pointed out, as he stopped in front of me, smirking.

“So I am,” he agreed. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t have emotions or a heart, Lena.”

“Is that what this is about? You’re upset because I called you out for not having a heart?” I asked, searching his face. He looked—ashamed, and my heart thudded against my ribs. I slid my eyes back to his, holding the indigo orbs that peered through me as if he sensed more than I showed him.

“Admittedly, I wanted to hurt you because you drew blood first. If you’d been anyone else, you’d be nailed to my wall, being torn apart for my entire court of villains to see as a warning.”

“Why not just keep Kendra alive, Luc? She was literally another version of me,” I grunted, watching him.

“You’re wrong. I didn’t start out hurting your sister. I tried to court her, but she only saw what everyone else sees when they look at me.”

“And what is that?”

“A monster,” he whispered, allowing his skeletal wings to unfurl from his back. His eyes slowly began to glow, turning the color of silver obsidian. Thick black tattoos that started at his fingertips slipped in whirls along his wrist, crawling up his shoulders and down his shirtless sides. Power hummed around us, and I fought to hide the rush of pleasure I felt at looking at his perfectly dark, sinful form.

Lifting my hands, I touched the pulsing glyphs that held tiny barbs on them. I didn’t pull away or make a sound as one pricked my finger, drawing blood. He hissed at my touch, studying the way I slowly examined him with my fingertips. His skin was hot. But then everything about the Devil and his palace was hotter than any other locale I’d visited.

“You’re nothing like Kendra was, Lena. You don’t see a monster when you look at me. What I can give you or promise you isn’t the first thing that slips from your tongue. You don’t want anything from me, and you’re not afraid of me. There’s a realness to you that your sister didn’t have. You’re pure and unafraid of me and what I truly am. You don’t care that I am the Devil and could give you anything you ever wanted with the snap of my fingers.”

“What did Kendra ask of you?” I pried, lifting my eyes to meet his piercing stare.

“She wished for power and magic. I asked if she would willingly pay the price for such a request. My offer was to end the life of Kendra Fitzgerald. She told me she was Kendra, which is how I found you, Lena. I then asked her for your life, and she refused me. She denied the Devil for you.”