Her emerald eyes fluttered open, and with a yawn and stretch, she carefully sat up in the massive bed she shared with her soon-to-be husband. It had been a little over two weeks since she woke up in Hell, all bandaged up and incapacitated. She was healing very well, according to Belial, who she assumed was an angel doctor or something. She liked Belial; he had been kind and gentle despite his intimidating size. He also shared with her the history and traditions of her new home. As she shifted around, trying to free herself of the sheets tangled around her legs, she winced in pain. She was healing quickly and had a bit more independence, like being able to go to the bathroom by herself, but she still hurt and needed to be careful when she moved around. Her back still had stitches, and she didn't want any of them to pop.

Finally liberating herself from the sheets, she scooted to the edge of the bed before glancing back to the empty opposite side. She had mixed feelings about the Young Prince and reasonably so. He seemed to constantly shift between how he felt about her and, if she was honest, she was doing the same. He was cocky, snarky, and shameless but honest, open, and witty. She liked his sense of humor even if she was usually the butt of it, and Lucifer hadn't been cruel to her, at least not yet. She was a tad scared that he was just waiting for her to heal before showing his true colors. He was a devil, after all, and as if he had heard her calling, the bathroom door opened, and out walked a naked Lucifer,

"No need to look away, Baby Girl. I'm a very gifted man. All those fortunate enough to see me stare." He smirked, catching her looking while he walked across the room towards the closet, "In fact, they usually droll." He winked, stepping through the door.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She would never say it to him, but he was much more attractive than expected. There was a stigma about the Devil being beastly, with a forked tail and horns, but he was nothing like that. Lucifer was tall, about six feet if she guessed, his body toned and muscular, olive skin with shiny black hair that had a slight wave to it, and it fell just below his shoulders. Beautiful blue eyes, always filled with mischief, a strong, well-developed jawline with the slightest hint of black stubble, and that smile. He always seemed to have a smirk that was eager to deliver the mischief his eyes housed.

"Do you always walk around naked, or are you just trying to make me uncomfortable?" She called loudly so he could hear her.

"Sorry, Baby Girl, I'm not used to my company staying till the next morning." He half-heartedly apologized as he walked back into the room, now wearing pants, but his torso was still bare, "You know, you're cute when you blush. I like that."

"The Devil likes cute?" She scoffed.

"This one does," He answered with a wide grin as she noticed something odd. His front teeth seemed normal like hers, a row of incisors on top and bottom, but the back was all pointy like canines, "You're the cutest thing I've had in bed for quite some time. How lucky I am that you belong to me." He grinned, hopping up on the bed, "Now tell me, how is my Baby Girl feeling today?"

"As good as I can, given the situation." She sighed.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"And there it is, more sadness and self-pity." He tsked, "I deal with that shit all day while working and then come back here for more."

She glared at him and slowly got out of bed, "How do you expect me to feel, Lucifer? Sentenced to an eternity in Hell as the Devil's bride." She asked while carefully shuffling towards the bathroom.

"I expect you to feel lucky and grateful to my dear Grandpapa." He replied, and she stopped as anger grabbed her, "Oh, don't get all huffy,"

"Grateful? You're joking?" She hissed.

She had forgotten about her urge to pee as she scowled at him. If a look could set fire, he would be screaming in pain right now.

"Yes, lucky," He replied with that stupid smirk, "You betrayed God, an all-loving God who allowed you into Heaven after a lifetime of sin. Truthfully, you should be on the seventh level of Hell, suffering at my father's hands for all eternity."

"I was a good person." She defended.

"Most are good, Baby Girl. Sure everyone sins, everyone, but when you died, you just popped up there, didn't you? No questions, not the atonement so heavily preached about, just dead, poof, and Heaven." He said, sliding off the bed and retrieving a shirt from his dresser, "All you little mortals walking around preaching right from wrong, this will send you to Hell, that will send you to Hell, but in truth, a spot in Hell is pretty difficult to obtain. You have to be a genuinely fucked up individual and do truly evil things to win a ticket here. God is love and forgiveness, but that doesn't mean he'll tolerate betrayal." Lucifer justified pulling the shirt over his head before walking to the liquor cabinet.

"You don't understand." She said through gritted teeth with her fists clenched by her side.

"You're right; I don't understand. You made it. You were there, and all you had to do was enjoy an eternity of bliss, but instead, you broke his trust and one of his main rules. Don't fuck in the affairs of mortals. The seventh level of Hell's dedicated to fallen angels," He informed as he poured two glasses of amber liquid, a drink in each hand; he turned around. Lucifer took a sip from one glass before he moved toward her, "When an angel falls, they're chained and brought to my father's personal torture chamber. There, he has a special tool made to cut off the wings, and then Hellfire is used to destroy the heavenly body leaving only the soul. That soul is then taken to a cell, where it will spend the rest of eternity. Did you know the only creatures my father still tortures are the fallen angels? The rest he entrusts to me. So, yes, my sweet Baby Girl, you are lucky. You may have to spend all eternity with me, but at least it's not with them." He said, offering the glass, but she refused it. "Suit yourself." He laughed, shooting the whiskey as she turned away.

"What do you expect of me, Lucifer?" She growled, looking up at him, "Because I won't be your slave."

The corners of his mouth pulled up, turning his smirk into an amused grin as his deep blue eyes locked onto hers.

He took another step forward, only about a foot of space separating them, "Slave?" He paused, tilting his head slightly, "You are no slave, Baby Girl." He reassured, "Our slaves still have their wings and will eventually return to Heaven. You are forever stuck. Forced to stand by my side as my wife."

A doom engulfed her as she swallowed hard, wanting to back away but couldn't. She was trapped by his eyes, unable to look away, and she knew he was aware of the power he held over her.

"Oh, stop that." He laughed, "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not going to hurt you? The contract won't allow it, so all you have to do is hold up your end of the deal and be a good little wife who obeys her husband."

"You expect me to just bow down to you?" She asked, shaking with frustration.

"Oh no, I would never ask my queen to bow." He replied, taking a pull from his glass, "A curtsy will do just fine."