As the pain grew more severe the Lucifer slumped into the hold of his captors. He had never felt pain before. He had been injured, but his robes had protected him from all pain. He had healed almost instantly and had given this kind of agony very little thought. Tears were streaming down his face as he looked up beseechingly at Metatron. Unable to hold his gaze, Metatron turned away, giving the final order to the guards.
“Clip his wings.” Metatron's voice was devoid of emotion.
Leaving Lucifer dazed with pain, lying on the cold marble floor, the guards separated, each taking one of his wings in hand. Unable to move from the burning pain radiating up his arm, Lucifer lay still and silent as his wings were spread wide. The coldness of the marble was a welcome feeling as sweat broke out on his forehead and chest. Looking up through the curtain of his hair he saw the whip of fire as it materialized in Metatron’s hand. One tear fell from Metatron’s eye and tracked down his cheek as he raised his arm and cracked the whip. It whistled through the air leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, hopelessness taking over as he felt the bite of the whip ripping through muscle and sinew. The scream that tore through him came straight from his soul. Metatron raised his arm and brought the whip down once more, separating the second wing from Lucifer’s body. Perfect white feathers shot with gold fluttered to the ground, landing softly in the pool of blood forming from the slices on his shoulder blades. Blood ran like a river down his back and sides. His beautiful wings lay useless on the ground on either side of him. Breathing shallowly, he slid a shaky hand across the floor, reaching out to stroke the soft feathers of his ruined wings. Hard, wracking sobs rose from him as his vision began to wink in and out from the pain.
Suddenly, he felt arms encircling him, lifting him off the hard marble floor. He felt himself being carried, but was unsure of how long or how far until he felt the cold breeze of the night air against his torn and battered skin. Squinting through the pain, Lucifer saw only the blackness of the sky, the stars obscured by clouds. With no warning he was released by his captors, the wind slicing his skin as he went into a free fall. The black skies were suddenly filled with the sounds of thunder. Lightning shot down all around him as he plummeted to the earth. Each flash lighting up the velvety black sky, making it seem like time was standing still. As he fell, all he could hear was the wind whipping by, and his own voice in his head telling him he had gotten what he deserved.
As he fell closer and closer to the earth, the rain began, washing his body clean of the blood and gore that had stained him, the great divide between himself and Heofon becoming a yawning chasm that he would never again be able to bridge. The earth drew closer and closer, and Lucifer began to thrash and panic, attempting frantically to slow his fall and the inevitable impact. Screaming until his throat was raw, he squeezed his eyes shut as the ground rose up to meet him.
Jerking awake, the scream still upon his lips, Luc felt soft warm arms wrap around him. Breathing heavily, he looked around the dark room in confusion. Shaking, he reached out and felt the covers and mattress of the bed. The arms encircling him drew him in closer, a warm breath tickled his ear as he heard the shushing of a feminine voice trying to comfort him. Suddenly, it all came back to him – Satan’s request, finding Katia, deciding to save her, arriving at this crappy motel. Letting out a shaky breath, Luc brought his hands up to cover Katia’s which were locked around his chest from behind. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She let out a breathy chuckle full of tension. “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay? You were screaming. I didn’t know what to do.”
“It was a dream, a memory, actually. I haven’t had that one in centuries,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion.
Katia sighed, turned her head and kissed him softly on the cheek. Luc felt his heart crack wide open at the feel of her lips grazing his skin. Tears stung his eyes as he disengaged from Katia’s embrace and turned to face her. Here she was, taking him at face value for the man she saw, not judging him on the sins of his past. She had been through so much these past couple of days, yet she was more concerned with his welfare than her own. She was too good for him, he knew it to the depths of his soul, but he couldn’t help himself. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek gently, taking in the beauty of her face that was softly lit by moonlight streaming through a small break in the curtains. He leaned in toward her until they were mere inches apart. “I shouldn’t do this. I have no right, you’re so good and I’m…” he whispered to her, unable to finish his thought, not wanting to put it into words for fear she would turn away.
Katia’s eyes flicked up to meet Luc’s. Smiling softly, she responded, “You’re hurt and damaged and perfect all at once.” Reaching out, Katia slid her hand around the nape of his neck, drawing him nearer as she speared her fingers through his hair. Their breath mingled briefly as their lips drew closer. The kiss was soft and gentle, lasting only a moment. As they drew apart, Luc looked down into Katia’s
