“Manifests?” Lincoln asked.
I replayed the way he’d looked at me the moment he’d seen the mark on my chest. Fear and horror had marred his beautiful features, filled his shining eyes.
“Let’s just take everything one day at a time. Be here for Brielle, and whatever she may need from us,” Raphael stated.
“Permission to take the rest of the night off, sir.” Lincoln’s clipped tone was back.
“Permission granted, son,” Michael replied.
Raphael’s office door opened and Lincoln stepped out, light poured out of the room with him.
He looked down at me curled up on the ground and scooped me up, one arm under my knees and the other behind my back. Cradling me to his chest, he started walking me to the parking lot in the direction of his trailer.
“I can walk,” I mumbled, but I didn’t really want to walk. I didn’t want to be alive right now. Everything felt too hard.
“No,” Lincoln simply stated.
Ever since Lucifer had put that mark on me, a depression had settled at the edges of my mind, waiting to pounce if I let down my guard. So, I let him carry me—covered in demon blood and guts—across the parking lot, past his motorcycle, and to his door.
He set me down gently, and then unlocked his door. “You can shower. I’m going to make us something to eat,” he murmured.
It was like ten at night, and I wasn’t hungry, but I couldn’t turn him down. I gave him a weak smile and nodded. We didn’t have many dates where Lincoln cooked for me, both busy most nights with my school and clinic job, or his work with the Fallen Army.
Dinner at ten o’clock? Why not?
I trudged through his trailer and went into the tiny bathroom, closing the door and locking it. Resting my forehead against the back of the door, I took two deep breaths. The night had not gone how I’d expected. Then again, who really expected the Prince of Darkness to show up and brand them? Just… wow.
Yep, I’m in shock.
Turning on the water, I started to strip out of my smoky, bloody, demon-coated clothes.
Screw this day. Screw it hard.
Stepping under the water, I felt a little bit of the tension leave my shoulders. I wasn’t alone. I had Lincoln, Shea, and everyone else on my team. I had a good support group. I was going to be fine.
When I grabbed the soapy loofa, and ran it over my chest, a sob stilled in my throat.
The mark.
I’d forgotten about it for three seconds, but there it was.
Never in a thousand years would I have guessed that anything could be worse than the death mark the Dark Mages took. But there I was, marked without even a needle by the Devil himself. The sadness I’d felt before when he’d branded me ramped up a notch. I furiously scrubbed at the mark, but it only hurt my skin.
I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. My body. He’d done something to my body against my will. I felt so violated. My tears turned to sobs as my chest ached with emotion, a physical pain spreading throughout my limbs.
Grief.
Would my dark powers grow stronger? Would I ever find my light like Fred, Lincoln, and the other Celestials had? Did Lucifer break me?
“Bri?” Lincoln’s voice was laced with concern as he called to me through the door.
I tried to control my weeping, but I couldn’t; I’d opened the floodgates, and now it was like a free-for-all. I turned off the water and slowed my breathing, trying to rein in what I was feeling.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? I mean, physically?” Lincoln sounded panicked. I wasn’t a crier. I’d fainted, and thrown up on him when he’d worked me out too hard, but I wasn’t a big crier.
“The mark” was all I could say in between my weeping.
His reply was instant. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, it doesn’t matter to me. I still… love you. No matter what.”
Shock and hope ripped through my body, chasing the pain and sadness away.
Lincoln just said he loves me.
He loves me.
I wrapped myself in a towel and threw open the door. “What did you say?” Maybe I hadn’t heard him right. The L-word was a big deal, and I could very well be hallucinating in my fragile state.
He grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “I freaking love you, Brielle. I have for a while now, but… the last person I said that to was my parents, and they got killed, so… I don’t know. I—”
I stepped forward and shut him up with a kiss.
Lincoln Grey loves me. I shoot black death chokers from my mouth, and have been personally branded by Lucifer, yet Lincoln Grey still loves me.
He tasted like strawberries, and despite the craziness of the last five hours, pleasure pooled in my belly as heat traveled between my legs. The L-word had done something to me.
Lincoln pulled back, and gave me a lopsided grin. “Aren’t you supposed to say it back?”
I laughed. “Oh please, we both know I’ve been in love with you for months.”
That made him chuckle as he reached out and stroked my chest, right over the mark, just above my towel. “Lucky me.”
I think we both became aware that I was dripping wet, naked except for just a thin towel, at the same time, because all of the air seemed to suck out of the room. My breathing slowed as heat throbbed between my legs.
And I dropped my towel.
YOLO.
His eyes widened, desire flaring in his gaze. “Brielle.”
I took a step toward him, one hand on my bare hip. He’d never seen me completely naked before. Pretty close, but not the full deal.
“Lincoln, I’m a woman. I may only be nineteen, and I may have less sexual experience than you, but I am a woman. And I know what I want.” I stepped closer so my tight nipples were pressed against his chest. Even with his shirt on, I could feel the warmth from his skin.
His breath came out in a ragged gasp. “Are you sure? Now?” His words were gentle, and sweet. He didn’t want to take advantage of me in a vulnerable situation, but I needed him. I needed our love like a life raft in the ocean. Now more than ever.
I nodded.
He snaked a hand out and slid it down my spine to cup my butt. With a light squeeze, he pulled me into him. My pelvis pressed against his, and my arms went around his neck, as we started to walk backward into the bedroom.
Once inside, I shifted my hands from his neck to the button on his pants. My mouth was hungrily feasting on him as my body heated, preparing for what was going to happen. I’d never felt this way about anyone in my entire life. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, Lincoln lit me up inside. He was my other half, which was probably why we butted heads, but dammit, I loved the guy so much it hurt.
And now, to share a moment so special with him, it completed something in me, something I hadn’t realized was feeling unfinished.
Lincoln laid me down, his lips on the curve of my breasts. With an outstretched arm, he rummaged through his nightstand drawer and produced a condom. As he peppered my skin with kisses and licks, I felt my desire ramping up to epic proportions.
Our bodies pressed together then, moving in rhythmic motions. I moaned every time his skin came back to reach mine. I trailed my fingers down his back and lost all sense of time; it was just Lincoln and I, stuck in this moment of love, pleasure, and complete trust.
My back began to arch as my body started to unravel. “Lincoln,” I moaned.
His hands clenched as he reached that place with me, and I felt every last piece of darkness flee from my soul.
I am light.
I am lovable.
This mark does not define me.
Our breathing slowed and then he laid down, curling me into his chest. We stayed there for some time, just being together in the moment.
Suddenly, a charred smell hit my nose. “What’s that smell?” I asked.
Lincoln bolted from the bed. “I burned dinner!”
Laughter erupted from my chest. It looked like cereal was on the menu.
Sitting in a clean pair of Lincoln’s boxers and an oversized shirt, I took a bite of the crunchy cereal, and pinned my lover with a glare.
“So hit me with it. Did Tiffany’s team pass?” I asked.