If there was one thing God prided himself on, it was that he was never dictated others' lives.

    He respected all of his creations, and when he made them, he made them with the right to their own free will. Their decisions were theirs to make, and though he would advise them on the morally correct course, he would not prevent them from going astray. He did not control them. He did not desire for mindless minions.

    He respected those who chose to serve him as equally as those who did not.

    As he stared out over the wide expanse of Earth, a particular instance popped into his mind.

    Lucifer. His brightest angel.

    The stories had been brutally warped, disgusting him, but he felt it was necessary to prevent anarchy among Heaven.

    Unlike the stories, God created Lucifer with the intent of putting him in charge of Hell. He needed his most trusted and bright to control the darkness of his less desirable creations, and he considered Lucifer to be the perfect fit. However, God didn't want to take away Lucifer's free will. So, when the time came, he presented the angel with a choice. The rule of Hell was no easy task, and if his angel chose to stay in Heaven and live an easier life, he would allow it. But Lucifer was God's most beloved for a reason. He accepted the great burden and sacrifice, and fell to Hell to rule in the chaos and darkness.

    The other angels, Michael especially, were jealous of Lucifer's close bond with God, and he feared the angels would revolt if they knew of Lucifer's special assignment. So, he gave no explanation, and let the angels draw their own conclusions on what had taken place. He regretted that choice now. No matter what people said about him, God did make mistakes. This was among his biggest.

    Michael decided that Lucifer had spurned God, turned his back on Heaven, and that God had cast him out. He spread the word that the almighty Lucifer had been punished, that he was no longer Heaven's perfect angel.

    The stories the angels spread sickened God, but he could not correct them. He let Michael have his victory, though he felt awful about the newfound disrespect Lucifer was paid in return for his sacrifice to Heaven.

    Eventually, the only story of Lucifer was one of sin and betrayal, and as time went on, the rumors got darker and darker. Michael claimed that Lucifer had been punished in an unspeakable way.

      Rumor had it, God had not allowed Lucifer his mate.  

    The way that God rewarded his immortal creations, especially his angels, was through Mates. For each and every one of his angels, he crafted a perfect Mate, someone they could love fiercely and protect at all costs. God did not withhold this gift from any angel or immortal creature in his service.

    The very idea was abhorrent, and yet God watched as angels went down to taunt Lucifer, telling him an angel in Hell didn't deserve a Mate. God looked on helplessly as Lucifer began to believe them, began to believe that he had been punished and cast out of grace by the being he had served so selflessly.

    That would soon change, God knew. He had been working tirelessly, and soon, Lucifer would understand how misguided the other angels had been.

    God comforted himself with the fact that Lucifer would soon find his mate, and prove the other angels wrong.

2: Chapter One

    "Up! Get up, Amirykal!" my mother's voice roused me from my blissful sleep, and I was instantly wide awake. I opened my eyes to find my mother standing over me, a look of panic on her face. Her faded red hair was tousled from sleep, and she was still in her robe. I could already tell something was up. She only ever used my full name when I was in trouble or in emergencies. Normally, I was Ammi, or even A. Whatever was happening, it was serious.

    "Mom, what's wrong? Are you alright?" I asked as I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. She looked frantic, and I realized it was worse than I thought. She didn't give any explanation, just rushing into my closet and emerging with my backpack. She dumped its contents onto the floor unceremoniously, and they hit with a bang. "Hey!" I protested, but she didn't acknowledge me.

    "Get dressed, we have to go. We have to go now." She flew around my room, throwing my clothes and toiletries in my bag.

    I didn't question her, there would be time for that later. I quickly stripped and threw on a random pair of skinny jeans, a long-sleeved black sweater, and my black combat boots. I pulled my own curly red hair up in a ponytail and brushed my teeth. Once I emerged from the bathroom, my mother had my bag packed and was waiting for me.

    "Come here, Ammi. You need to go. There's no time to waste!" She hissed, grabbing my wrist and towing me towards the basement. I realized she planned to make it to the door there. It was more discreet and traveled underground for a few meters before ending near the forest edge. We weren't just leaving; we were running from someone. Then I noticed my mother hadn't packed, or even dressed. She wasn't planning on coming with me.

    "Mom, what the hell is going on? Calm down and tell me!" I stopped in my tracks, demanding an answer. She looked frantic at my refusal to continue.

    "Ammi, there is no time! I can't-"

    I interrupted her. "Mom, answer me! Who am I running from?"

    As if in answer, the door banged open with such force, it shattered.

    My mother screamed, but I just stared in shock.

    The man in front of us was gloriously handsome, with neat-combed blond hair and pale skin that shone in the moonlight. His jaw was chiseled, and he was muscular, yet slim. He was gorgeous, for certain, but his eyes put me on edge. They were a lovely gray, but flinty and harsh, like he would kill a puppy and bring it back to life just to do it again. He felt...just wrong.

    "You there! Why are you not in line?" His voice was clear and cold as he spoke, the weight of his glare stunning my mom into silence. Even though he was glaring at me.

    My shock turned quickly to anger, my short fuse sparking. Squaring my shoulders and glaring up at him, I spat, "listen up, jackass. I don't know why the hell you thought it was okay to just barge in the house and order me around, but if you think your 'tough guy' act is going to get you anywhere with me, you've got another thing coming!" I didn't like this guy, not at all. Scaring my mom, telling me what to do, breaking our door? He had a lot of nerve.

    Just as he was about to say something, I heard a scream from outside, and caught a glimpse of a girl, around my age, struggling against another burly man. He was pulling her away from her desperate family, pleading and crying at him to stop.

    Memories resurfaced. My blood boiled.

    I dodged around the asshat in our doorway and sprinted towards them. I launched towards the man, clawing at his face and locking an arm around his throat. He released the girl to grab me, flipping me over and slamming me onto the ground with brutal force. I groaned, but swung my leg and hit the back of his knees, sending him tumbling to the earth.

    I looked up, and saw the girl I had saved, watching us in frozen terror.

    "Run!" I screamed, and she snapped out of it, shooting off in another direction.

    That, unfortunately, was what lost me the fight.

    The man had gotten up, and gripped me tightly around the throat with one hand, raising me in the air so my feet dangled uselessly. His strength caught me off guard as I struggled to breathe. I landed kick after kick against his torso, but he seemed unaffected and continued to wring every bit of air out of my lungs.

    Just as I was about to pass out, the blond man from before grabbed the man's shoulder, whispering something in his ear. I was a bit distracted with trying to breathe, and was unable to make it out, but he released me. I fell to the floor in a heap, wheezing out laborious breaths.

    The blond man crouched beside me, glaring with those dead eyes of his as he growled, "cross me again, and you won't be so lucky, Bitch." He gave me a look, then added, "you are eighteen, correct?"

    I was, but if I had been physically able to, I would have cussed him out thoroughly. As it was, I was only able to give him a death glare. Not liking that, he gripped my upper arm roughly and yanked me to my feet. We walked, well, he walked, and I was dragged, to the town hall.

    The hall was usually used for meetings and such, but now, the three men had all sorts of girls, around my age, lined up in silence. Most had dried tear tracks on their cheeks, and looked like they were dragged from bed, which they probably had. But some, to my disgust, were eyeing up the men with lust on their faces.

    I was soon thrown into line, just catching myself before I fell. I soon realized I had regained my breath, and growled profanities at him. He ignored me, which just pissed me off even more, if that was possible.

    "Boys, we can begin now." He said, and I began to shake with anger. Whatever they were planning, I was going to die before I let them do it.

    One of his grunts, the one who had attacked me, cleared his throat nervously, "hey, Zeke. I don't know about this...what if he shows up?" The statement had Zeke looking close to blowing a fuse.

    "Him? Bah, he was nothing! We are better, newer! The Bright One's power was greatly exaggerated. Nothing to be feared. Besides," he scoffed, "I doubt he would care about us. This is the sort of thing he approved of, yeah?"

    This time the other one spoke up, with more strength, "Khamael is right. Do not be so foolish Ezekiel. I am beginning to regret ever agreeing to this."

    This time, Ezekiel went into motion, rounding on his companions. "Fools! You gave your word. Think of the profits! They are only human, only scum! Look!" he stabbed a finger in the air towards me. Uh, oh. "That insolent bitch dared to attack you, Khamael! And yet you defend her? Look!" he stepped forward, towards me with lethal intent, eyes burning holes in my skull. "Look at how she stands, unafraid! And yet you would allow this lowlife to do so in our presence?"

    Before I could react, he shot forward, hand clamping around my neck, not enough to cut off my air, but enough that my already sore neck was screaming in pain. I thrashed, throwing whatever I could at his body, but I think I ended up hurting myself more than I did him. These men were unlike any I'd ever faced before. They were unnaturally strong, and unbending. I wasn't overestimating my abilities; I knew how to hit, and they should have at least shown signs of pain or impact. There were none. Something was very off here, and it didn't bode well for me.

    Ignoring my futile struggles, he dragged me and threw me in front of the other two men. My heartbeat quickened as adrenaline pumped through my system. This just could not be good.

    "Her arrogance must be punished." Ezekiel commanded, and I really began to fear for my life.

    But I was going to go down in a shitstorm, thank you very much.

    When they started forward, I leaped at Ezekiel, my battle cries hoarse and weak from my damaged windpipe. I managed to claw at his face, drawing blood, before I was lifted off and held aloft in the air, being strangled without mercy. I could actually feel my throat collapsing under the hold, and I knew I would not last long.

    Then the unexpected, although very welcomed, happened.

    Just before I passed out, there was a blinding flash. I was released, tossed to the ground like a rag doll, and heard the other girls begin to cry out around me. Strange men, flashes of light, being nearly killed, multiple times? I had about had enough of this shit.

    When my vision finally cleared up, I had to bite my lip to hold in the gasp that threatened. Even in my damaged state, I was able to appreciate the turn of events. Hell, I'd have to be dead not to. A man had appeared from the bright light, but that wasn't the astonishing part. If I had thought that the men before were handsome...they didn't hold a candle to this new...being.

    He was tall, at least six foot four, but the muscles that bulged from beneath his clothing and his wide shoulders balanced him out, and kept him from being lanky or skinny. His features were striking and chiseled, all the way from his plump lower lip to his deep-set, piercing blue eyes. His hair was black and shoulder length, framing his face with the silky waves that I was just dying to run my fingers through. My panties dampened instantly, and I found that I couldn't take my eyes off this handsome stranger.

    God damn.

    The Adonis growled as he glared at the brutes who had attacked us, his eyes igniting in a passionate fury. His muscles twitched, drawing my attention and so not helping my situation. And then, he spoke.

    "Ezekiel! Adriel! Khamael! What is the meaning of this?" The newcomer roared. And fuck if it wasn't hot.

    Their reactions were instantaneous. They cowered in fear, stumbling back as if they faced death himself.

    "Please, please, no! Bright One, we did nothing wrong-" Zeke whimpered, and I didn't bother to hide my eye roll. Nearly dead or not, the sass lives on.

    "Nothing wrong? Brother, you plead for my mercy, yet you treat me like some half-baked FOOL!" the temperature in the room was getting uncomfortably hot. No it wasn't just my scattered hormones, the hall was heating up, and I'd bet my butt that it was because of the sex god who was about to kick some major ass. I couldn't help but root for him; Zeke was an asswad.

    "We beg your forgiveness!" Zeke was almost weeping now. Fucking pathetic, and the other two seemed to still be in a shocked silence.

    The mystery man remained impassive, obviously unmoved by Ezekiel's ridiculous display. Desperate, Zeke launched at the other man, and then shit really hit the fan.

    The two grunts followed his example, a little uncertainly, and the new man was swarmed by deadly inhuman warriors. I had no delusions. No matter how scary the sexy dude was, he wouldn't stand a chance against all three, so like the fucking unbelievably stupid person I am, I joined in.

    I was wounded, I was tired, and I possessed none of the strength or speed that these four obviously did. What was I thinking? To be completely honest, I really just wasn't. I tend to do that a lot, and it always got me into tricky situations.

    I must say though, this was idiotic, even for me.

    I grabbed the closest one to me, Khamael, I believe, the one I had previously fought, and did what any cornered girl would do. I hit the self-destruct button. More plainly, I kicked him in the balls. Really fucking hard. Like, let's just say he wasn't ever having kids, and I was doing the world a huge favor, in my own opinion.

    He doubled over with a shrill yelp that sounded like a squashed cat, and I took the opportunity to knee him right in the face. He fell to the ground, clutching both his nose, which was gushing blood, and his junk. I don't know where I got the strength, but I followed him to the ground, straddling his torso and clamping my hands around this throat mercilessly.

    Leaning real close, and knowing my advantage wouldn't last long, I whispered in his ear as I continued to apply pressure, "it doesn't feel too good, doesn't? Being a little bitch."

    I focused all my energy and focus into strangling the life out of this monster. A maniac surge of blood lust consumed me, and I wanted nothing but to kill. Just as his eyes closed, I was ripped off his body and sent flying through the air. I curled up and cradled my head just before I crashed against the floor, saving myself from everything but severe bruising. And, perhaps a few broken ribs. Looking up, I hissed in anger.

    It. Was. Fucking. Asswad. Ezekiel.

    He was furious. Blood dripped in a steady stream from his mouth and onto his chin, and his eyes glinted with an insane light. His hair was matted, and his fingers of his right hand were bent at awkward angles. I couldn't see the man that had flashed in here, but I realized with a sinking feeling that if Zeke was alive, he had won.

    I was going to die.

    But before I could be brutally and most likely agonizingly slaughtered, two large, tanned hands same around the sides of Ezekiel's face, and twisted sharply. I couldn't even scream at the sickening crack. I could only watch as Zeke crumpled against the floor, revealing the handsome man who had just saved my life.

    "I had that under control." I wheezed, struggling to maintain my grip on consciousness.

    The man just stared at me, dumbfounded, blue eyes shining with disbelief and...adoration? His lovely, pink lips parted slowly, shaping a single word.

    "Mate."

    Then, I lost the battle with the darkness, and I slumped to the floor.

    I could only hope I would wake up again.

3: Chapter Two

LUCIFER'S POV (yay)

I sighed, sinking into my desk chair with relief, and massaging my temples to dispel the headache that was slowly developing. I had had a pretty shitty day, one that had stretched on for an ungodly amount of time. I was drained from work, and if I had to make a list of all the possible things that could have gone wrong today, I would have been able to check every one off.

I'd been having a lot of those kinds of days lately. Work in Hell was beginning to wear on me, and the darkness was eating away at the edges of my inner light with every day that passed. Managing eternal damnation wasn't the easiest task, and most of the time, I took no joy in it. The only happiness I gleaned from my life was the justice I enacted upon the souls that were sent to me by God.

I not only ruled Hell; I governed Purgatory. Each and every soul that died went there first for judgement. If they had been more evil than good, they would be sent to Hell, and vice versa. But if they had been neither one or the other, not extraordinary in any way, they would simply stay to roam in Purgatory.

Since I took my job very seriously, I evaluated each and every single soul that entered Purgatory personally. Though I had many close advisers and high-ranking staff that could take the brunt of the work, I did it all. Part of it was that I wanted to do my best with the task that God had assigned me; but the bigger reason, if I were to admit it, was that I had nothing else to do.

I put on a strong front. My armor appeared flawless; no chinks or gaps to stab through. To the other angels, I was perfect, unstoppable, and, just fine as I was.

That was just a front. An illusion. I was not perfect nor emotionless as I seemed. That was, in fact, directly linked to the reason I had been having a rough time recently. Angels were engineered by God to love and nurture, but like any creature capable of these actions, they needed to be love and nurtured as well. Just as Mates served as a reward for service, God made mates for this purpose. His angels were simply not made to be solitary creatures.

I had heard the angels talk; I wasn't deaf. I heard their claims, their awful rumors that I had been denied my mate. Never once had I heard God step in to correct them. Never once had God come to me and told me that this was falsehood. The only conclusion that I could draw was that the angels were spreading God's word. Perhaps my work in Hell had been unsatisfactory, or perhaps God had forsaken me just as I had forsaken Heaven. Whatever the reason, I was doomed to a fate worse than death; life in Hell, poisoned by the foul evil that lurked in the hearts of God's most corrupt creations, all alone for eternity.

Once I had realized that, Hell had truly begun to wear on me. I was lost and without hope of anything better; I had sunken deep into a depression, and my light was dimming.

I had enough to deal with as it was. The quantity of damned souls had gone up in recent years, and I was dealing with an influx that was as stressful as it was unusual. I kept myself busy enough, I supposed, but that didn't keep me from becoming more and more irritable.

For the first time in my life, I felt lost.

Was this one thing really too much to ask?

I was forcefully drawn from my morbid train of thought when Marcus, my second in command and close friend, barged into the room. I looked up, ready to snap at the daemon for entering so rudely, but stopped in my tracks when I saw the look on my friend's face. He looked absolutely enraged.

"Luce! You must stop them, those goddamn cocksucking bastards!" He roared, veins in his neck and forehead pulsing in his fury.

I held my hands in the air, trying to placate the other man. "Tell me what happened. Calmly. Now." I demanded. I was unflustered by the anger; my friend angered easily, and tended to start ripping off heads when he did so.

"It's your fucking angel brothers! Those idiots are harassing the humans! Rounding up young girls to help the archangels find their mates for money!" Marcus was pacing back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching.

"They're doing what?" I snarled, feeling my body beginning to glow, the room super heating as my fury built. "How dare they!"

Mates were the most sacred thing to supernatural beings. They were God-given gifts, a symbol of the Lord's graciousness. They were meant to be found when God willed it; the violation of that one rule by herding females and selling them to their mates was blasphemous! It not only defied the god that had given them, but posed a threat to the livelihood of the females in question. Many died due to the rough treatment they received in such operations. Raphael, the closest of my brothers, one of the few whom hadn't turned his back on me, had lost his mate this way. He had led the assault on the men responsible and slaughtered them all before disappearing to mourn. Nothing angered me more than this; especially from my own kind.

"They did. And it's daytime there; I couldn't deal with it! You know as well as I that you are the only one here besides me who is powerful enough to take them out." Marcus was frustrated with his inability to act. The helplessness added fuel to the fire, literally. Just as I was glowing, Marcus' fists were sparking. It was a testament to the degree of our anger that such old beings lost control over their powers.

"Don't worry, Marcus. I will annihilate these scum myself." I promised, before transporting myself to the place I saw in Marcus' mind.

When I opened my eyes, I sent a bright flash of blinding light out to show the offending angels the depth of the shit they had gotten themselves into. I saw three of my brothers, Adriel, Ezekiel, and Khamael, and my heart sank in disappointment. I had thought better of them; especially Zeke. But any hope I'd had that this was a misunderstanding vanished as I saw Zeke holding a young girl up by her throat, his intent obviously to kill.

"Ezekiel! Adriel! Khamael! What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, causing Zeke to drop the female. I hoped that she wasn't dead; she could very well be someone's mate, and we didn't need another tragedy among Heaven's ranks. I was disgusted when, instead of the explanation I had ordered of them, they cowered in fear, pathetic and quibbling. These may not be archangels, but despite that, I expected a modicum of dignity and pride from my brothers. They were pathetic excuses for angels; it did not surprise me that they would stoop so low as to traffic mates.

"Please, please, no! Bright One, we did nothing wrong-" Zeke pleaded, and that was the final straw. Sucking up with their praise, calling me 'Bright One' when they slandered me and taunted me constantly for being mateless? For falling from Heaven? They deserved none of my pity.

"Nothing wrong? Brother, you plead for my mercy, yet treat you treat me like some half-baked FOOL!" I stormed, my normally iron-like grip on my control gradually slipping with every passing second.

"We beg your forgiveness!" was this pathetic embarrassment to Heaven and God actually sobbing in front of me like a child? He gave all angels a bad name.

I didn't plan to let it continue.

Then Ezekiel, the ingrate, did something incredibly stupid. He attacked me, Adriel and Khamael quickly following in hopes of overwhelming me.

Without pause, I intercepted Zeke's first blow with my palm, casual and unruffled. He was a powerful warrior, in his time, one of Heaven's best. But he had forgotten whom he was facing. He was young when I left Heaven; it had been a long time since I had shown my powers. It felt good, in a way, to kick his ass.

As I thought this, I clamped down on his fist, crushing it in my hand as easily as one would crush a soda can. The resulting scream of agony was shrill and disgraceful.

"Try again when you are willing to die like an angel." I snarled, kicking him in the abdomen and letting go of his hand simultaneously so that he flew into the wall on the opposite end of the building. I had barely registered the slam when Adriel was on me. Ezekiel had been a devote angel of Heaven before this, and I sought to give him some level of redemption before I killed him; that was why he was currently still alive. With Adriel, I simply ducked beneath his blow and drove my fist into his face, taking satisfaction as I saw it crumple inward before he fell. I just stared at the mutilated corpse without emotion. He hadn't been worth my efforts.

My head jerked up as I heard a thud of a body that had my stomach flipping; an odd reaction, coming from me, which set me on edge. I saw the female thrown to the floor by Ezekiel as he towered over her, ready to finish her off. Rage gripped me, and before I knew it, I was there, hands on either side of his face, breaking his neck with no regrets.

As he fell, I got my first look at the female whom had caused such uproar among my brother angels. I froze in place, absolute shock paralyzing me.

Father, if she wasn't absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Even as beaten down as she was, I had never seen one as beautiful as her. Her hair was long and curled in almost-ringlets, sporting a breathtaking shade of red-I think it was the brightest natural red I had ever seen; dark, but not auburn. Her skin was pale and dotted with freckles-angel's kisses, as I had once heard, and I wanted to kiss each and every one of them. Her lips were full and pink, her eyes a bright green; the kind I though only existed in the imagination. At first glance, I wanted nothing more than to protect her; she seemed so fragile and breakable. But the square jaw, stubborn chin, and well-defined body told me a different story. She was a fighter, independent, stubborn. Even her stare was challenging me; and she was half-conscious.

"I had that under control." Her voice was hoarse and weak; I was livid, knowing that the three 'angels' had come goddamn close to killing her. I wished I could go back and kill them over and over again for that. But all I could do was continue to stare into her eyes, feeling my light brighten past a level I have ever achieved in my existence.

"Mate." The word slipped past my lips, lovely, invigorating. I wanted to shout it to the Heavens, to thank God for not forsaking me.

I saw her eyes slide shut, and her body begin to fall. I was there instantly, catching her and holding her close. She was still breathing, thank my Father. Closing my eyes, I placed my lips on her forehead, utilizing my rarely needed ability to heal her wounds. Her ragged breathing calmed, and she slept peacefully, but I was still pissed the hell off. Those three angels would never get anything but eternal torment if I had anything to say about it.

Wait...three.

I had only killed two.

I swore, setting my mate down reluctantly, and scanned the room, sure that he had escaped. I would hunt him down, torture him relentlessly...

"What the...?" I was beyond confused. There was a body on the floor. As I strode forward, my suspicions were confirmed-it was Khamael. He was dead, strangled. The purple bruises on his throat were easy to read. Zeke and Adriel didn't have time to kill him, and even if they had, they had no reason to. I glanced back at my precious mate, and back at Khamael. I was impressed, to say the least. Not only that, I was proud and extremely turned on.

It had been a long time since I felt that way. The delicious feeling slammed into me like a freight train, and I had to clench my hands and grit my teeth from the force of my arousal. If my pretty little mate hadn't been recently wounded and asleep, I would have fucked her senseless. As it was, I struggled to maintain control. The need for her safety was my main priority right now; I had to get her back to Hell, where she'd be safe, ironic as that may be.

I gathered her up again, bridal style, and without any more delay, flashed from the bloodied hall. I'd have Marcus send some cleanup later. I had more important things to deal with right now.

And I couldn't be happier.
 

4: Chapter Three

When I came to, I was royally pissed.

I was in a bed, for starters. That wasn't the irritating part though, because I wasn't in my own bed. I was in someone else's. And no matter how fucking comfy this one was, I did not want to be waking up in it. I mean, sure, it had an amazing silky blue cover. Sure, the pillows were so soft they were probably stuffed with the fur of dead kittens. Sure, it was a king-sized with memory foam and it smelled like spices and melted chocolate-

It didn't change anything. I was still pissed.

Secondly, I was changed. Into a pair of spandex shorts and a tight-fitting tank top. Whoever changed me had better not have been some ancient pervert, because I didn't care how old he was, I'd knock out any of his remaining teeth with pleasure.

The final thing that put me into a real shitty mood was the memories of recent events. It all hit me in a rush. Mom freaking. Asswad ordering me around. Almost dying two, no, three times. Then that sex god who waltzed in and pulled my ass from the flame.

Passing out on the floor.

And here I was. I didn't know who's house I was in, but I planned on giving them a piece of my mind. With that thought, I swung my legs out of bed and marched right to the door, relieved when it swung open without a sound or resistance. I was not so relieved, however, to find a big buff dude standing outside my door. Why the fuck were there guards? This wasn't a movie, and that shit just didn't happen in real life.

The man noticed me, turning and holding a hand up. "Miss, I need you to get back into the room. For your own safety."

"If you touch me, the only person's safety you'll need to be concerned about is yours, Bud." I threatened. He was a big boy. I always loved a good ol' fist fight, but in this case, I'd rather avoid it.

He just snorted, making a grab for my arm. Soon as he got a hold of my wrist, I regrabbed it, twisting it behind his back into an arm bar. "I'll stop now, just let me go." I tried. He was just doing his job. But like I said, the dude was freaking huge. I'd have to be really nasty to him to put him out of commission. I really would rather not.

He didn't take my invitation, making a sudden move in hopes of dislodging my grip. Sighing, I twisted up sharply with the hand holding his arm, dislocating his shoulder. I winced at the loud roar as he clutched his injury, wishing I had a weapon to put him out quickly and quietly.

Taking advantage of the wounded shoulder, I pushed forward so he stumbled against the wall, slamming his head. He groaned and slid to the floor, but he was still conscious. Damn, what was this guy? The Hulk?

I was forced to grab his hair and slam his head against the hard floor several times before he passed out. It wasn't the most humane way of doing things, but I felt backed into a corner on that one.

I panted lightly, taking a brief break before frisking him. I came up with a knife and...a mini chocolate bar? I shrugged, unwrapping it taking a bite as I sheathed the dagger. Couldn't really complain.

I tossed the wrapper back as I thought about which way I needed to go. There was a long, dark corridor to my right, or a set of stairs to my left. Figuring dark didn't mean an exit, I headed towards the stairs, going as quickly and as discreetly as I could. People would have heard my scrap with the muscleman, so I needed to book it. I wound my way through the maze of hallways as best as I could, but I was quickly getting frustrated. It should not be this hard to find the front door.

Just as I was about ready to punch a wall, I heard something. Voices. Seeing a door with light under it, I pressed my ear against it, careful not to cast a shadow to alert the people inside.

"...Know. I was surprised too. You would have never thought that Zeke would do such a thing. Such a promising young soldier. But he left me no choice." A husky, accented voice emanated from behind the door. I felt a shiver run down my spine, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.

"That wasn't what I was talking about, and you know it." Another voice replied, sounding exasperated. "Luce, quit being an ass and tell me about her. What was she like?"

There was a pause, and then the rougher-voiced man spoke again. "She was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. I could never describe her to you because words would never do her justice. And she was fierce. Father above, Marcus! She killed one of them, without my help! I barely heard her speak. I can't wait until she wakes up. I can't wait to learn more about her. I don't even know her name." My chest pinged with jealousy, which pissed me off. I shouldn't be jealous! Hell no! And why was I even out here, listening like a coward? Time to give him a piece of my mind.

Decided, I slammed the door open. The two men looked up, and, quicker than thought, they were squared up, drawing weapons. I nearly gasped. It was that sex god that kicked some pretty major ass before, and some other dude with some amazing silver hair.

"Okay, Hotshot, I don't know who you think you are, keeping me in a room with a giant punk as a prison warden, but you are about to get your fine ass kicked unless you give me answers!" I snarled, absolutely ready to carry out my threat.

The man's godlike face contorted in confusion and anger. "How did you get out? It's not safe. Where's Benjamin?"

I snorted. "If you mean the hulk you posted outside the room you put me in, he's knocked out right now, and when he wakes up, he'll be in a lot of pain. Just like you unless you start talking." I unsheathed my dagger and stepped from the doorway.

Both men looked astonished. "You beat up Benjamin?" The other guy asked incredulously, gray eyes wide.

"No, I gave him a kiss goodnight and put him down for nap time." I snapped sarcastically. The silver-haired man, Marcus, I remembered, turned to the other guy, who I dubbed the Sex god.

"Dude. I like her."

The Sex god growled. "Leave, Marcus." The other man pouted, but sighed in defeat, and promptly vanished. I gawked at the space he used to be. The fuck?

The Sex god stepped towards me, blue eyes flashing. "Put the dagger down, Kitten."

"Like Hell." I spat, stepping to the side to put more distance between us.

Before I could blink, the dagger was torn from my hands, clattering on the stone floor, and the Sex god was less than a foot away from me. All I could see was a hard muscled chest, and believe me, under any other circumstance, I would not be complaining. I was panting heavily now, heat consuming my body as an ache began to build at the apex of my thighs. I remained frozen as he lowered his head to the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. Then, he placed a gentle kiss directly under my jaw, and my legs nearly buckled beneath me.

"You smell so good, Kitten." He rumbled, nipping lightly at my jaw before pulling away with a heavy groan.

That snapped me out of whatever trance I was in real quick. I tried to dart out from between him and the wall, but he quickly pulled me into his chest, holding my head to his shoulder and cooing soothingly as I struggled to escape.

"You put me down right now you mother-"

"Listen, Love. I'll let you go as soon as you calm down. I don't want you hurting yourself." He murmured, stroking his hand along my hair. I tried to ignore the feelings of safety that gave me. Goddammit, woman! Pull yourself together!

"Calm down? You want me to calm down while I'm being manhandled by a brute?" I snarled, never ceasing my struggles.

"I am just fine with this arrangement, Kitten." He purred, his hand moving down my back and tracing my spine with his fingers. How did he make that an erotic action?

Just breathe, Ammi. Relax so he lets his guard down, then knee him in his soft spot so hard his ancestors feel the tingle!

With that thought, I was able to swallow my pride enough to surrender. I relaxed my body and stopped trying to kill him. For now. Outwardly, I was calming down. Inwardly, I was seething.

A heavy sigh from him, and his fingers continued their paradoxically soothing and arousing action. "I know you aren't planning on cooperating with me, but I'll let you down for now. One false move, however, and I just may never let you go."

"Sounds agreeable." I said through clenched teeth.

He slowly and cautiously let me down, eyeing me warily. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I did exactly what I planned to: I hit his self-destruct button. He doubled over with a groan, and from the whimpering noises he was making, I knew I'd better get my fine ass out of there.

"Well, nicemeetingyoubye!" I yelped, before dashing out of the room. As bolted down the halls, I heard and echoing roar shake the building. Looking behind me like the idiot I am, I ran smack into a wall. No, not a wall.

"Oh, 'sup Marcus?" I squeaked. Glancing behind me again nervously.

"What did you do? He sounds madder than the time I put Nair in his shampoo." Marcus looked almost inspired by my achievement.

My awkwardness came out. "I kneed him in the junk so hard he lost his balls up his asshole." I explained casually. "Now I really gotta split, bye!" I left Marcus in the dust, putting a hesitant hand over his crotch with a sympathetic look on his face.

Considering I ran like a pregnant goldfish out of water, I was impressed by the amount of time I evaded the Sex god (whose name I really needed figure out.) He found me after I had pretty much given up on finding the exit. He looked downright terrifying, eyes nearly black, fists clenched. And he was, like, glowing, but at this point nothing really surprised me anymore.

As he approached, I looked up, and asked, with genuine curiosity, I might add, "how'd you manage to fish 'em out?" without a pause, he scooped me up onto his shoulder and set off, his body taut with anger.

"Well somebody's pissed off. You need some ice, Hun?" I crooned, still hanging upside down. This was my payback, and I'd get as much enjoyment out of it as I could. I yelped in surprise as a stinging smack landed on my ass, taking me completely by surprise. "Why, you insufferable bastard!" I snarled, pounding on his back. The chuckle that came in response did nothing to diffuse my anger.

When he finally put me down, ironically, in the room I had originally woke up in, I was about ready to tear his head off. But, when I leaped up to do so, he dodged me coolly, looking rather amused. "You're a very aggressive person, you know that?"

"That's what they all say. And it's usually their last words." I huffed. I was getting nowhere with my Kick-some-ass strategy. I needed to cool it for a bit until I figured out a better way to get out of here. With that thought in mind, I sat on the bed passively.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't otherwise comment. "I know that. I found Khamael. You were the one who strangled him, no?"

"The bastard deserved it. He was attacking some helpless girl, and he gave me the same treatment when I stepped in." Just the thought of that poor girl crying as he dragged her off was enough to set my blood boiling again.

The man growled his agreement, looking pleased and unhappy at the same time, which looked kind of painful. "You stepped in? You tried to stop him?"

I gave him a look. "No, I watched like a sissy while he dragged some poor girl away to who knows where." I replied sarcastically.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" he barked, staring me down. "You could've been killed!"

"Hate to break it to you, Hotshot, but I wasn't waiting for a man in shining armor to come kick his ass in my name. I really had no other choice." I told him evenly, gauging his reaction.

He relaxed a bit, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Point made. I just don't like the idea of you getting hurt, Kitten. The image of you facing Khamael in combat...It makes me feel physically sick."

I saw my opportunity to finally figure out what was going on here. "Why would you care so much? Why am I here?" I grilled, desperate for answers. "And while you're at it, do tell me your name."

The man gave a wry grin at my last comment. "Name for a name?" he suggested.

"Sure. Ammi. Now yours." I clipped, not wanting to say my whole name and have to explain it, like I always ended up doing.

He clucked his tongue disparagingly, shaking his head, "Tell me your full name."

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "Fine. But I'm not explaining it to you." His face told me that I would if he wanted me to, but I soldiered on. "My full first name is Amirykal. Happy?" I muttered.

His reaction took me completely by surprise. He blinked slowly at first, processing, then his face split into a wide grin and he threw back his head and laughed uproariously. I was hit with a wave of arousal at the sound of it-it was rumbling and husky, heating me up at the core.

"What's so funny?" I grumbled, sure he was laughing at my expense. He looked down, that gorgeous grin still on his chiseled face, showcasing his lovely white teeth.

"Oh, Kitten. Your name, Amirykal, do you know its meaning?" He asked, his voice sensual and erotic as he spoke my name.

"No-I was found with that name." I answered struggling to keep my voice even as he slowly approached, like a predator would his prey.

"Well, Love, I'll tell you. Amirykal means 'gift', or, more exactly, 'a gift from God'." He purred as he got closer and closer, so there was barely a foot between us.

"And why is that funny?" I had a very hard time focusing on the conversation at hand with him at this proximity, using that lovely tone.

"Because, Amirykal, I am Lucifer. And God made you to be mine.