The Door Beneath Our Feet
Lucien
Something changed that night when we came together again, and I still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Not fully.
Zyrean had made no shortage of jokes about the fact that I couldn’t keep my hands—or mouth—off her as we made the final preparations for our trip to Hell. But beneath the teasing, even he knew what I was doing.
Why?
This was temporary; it had always been that way since I first came here five years ago. Our peace was never going to last, and a part of each of us knew that. So we took full advantage of the heat, the stolen seconds in the shadowed rooms of our momentary peace that we had.
Because once we crossed that threshold, once the underworld realized that Lucifer had returned?
We’d be lucky to survive the politics, let alone cling t
