Adela felt sick, and she was frozen for a moment as she saw evidence of blood glistening through his black shirt.
Her trembling hands were raised towards him, but her legs wouldn’t move.
Now, not only was Lucifer’s reputation taking hits because of her, but he was also physically hurt by something that was meant for her and her alone.
It wasn’t just that he got shot for her.
This could be considered a declaration of war.
All she did was try to escape the werewolves so she could have a chance at a life she chose, not change the lives of the entire supernatural world as they knew it.
“Lucifer!” she cried.
“Why?” She finally rushed towards him, after pulling herself together.
His breathing was a bit labored as the silver bullet that had hit his back began to rise out of his skin.
The dark red blood oozing out of his back seemed to be lessening with each passing moment, but it didn’t erase Adela’s guilt.
“It would take you weeks longer to heal from something like this,” he responded and turned towards her.
“Don’t worry, just give me a few minutes.” At the horrified expression she wore, he lifted his hand as if he was going to touch her face, but he contained himself.
Adela found herself frustrated.
“You will take a bullet for me, but you hesitate to touch me?” she demanded desperately.
“Is it because I’m a werewolf?” “Of course not,” he responded, opening his mouth to say more, but she continued.
“Because I’m a half-human?” “No,” he persisted.
She was almost out of ideas.
“It’s because I’m younger than you,” she quietly guessed.
“Nearly everyone is younger than I am,” he responded as loudly as his pain level would allow.
“It isn’t about age but experiences.
You’re here under my roof, surrounded by people who listen to only me.
Our power imbalance ought to be considered.” “You’ve been nothing but nice to me,” she responded.
“Everyone has… I’m grateful.” “Gratitude isn’t permission.” “I know that I’m attracted to you,” she continued.
“And you’re attracted to me…” She stepped a bit closer.
He didn’t move backwards, but he still didn’t touch her either.
It was he who was feeling a bit overwhelmed.
He was in pain, and her getting closer ignited all of his senses.
Knowing she was affecting him was her small victory.
Even if he pretended to be unaffected, she could hear his heartbeat quicken at her proximity.
His gaze dropped to her determined pout and then lifted to her deep blue eyes fixed on him.
“Taking a bullet is my choice,” he responded, only needing to whisper since she was so close.
“Imposing my attraction on you when you’re not sure if you’re only attracted to me because I’m kind to you would take away your right to choose.
While you’re feeling like you owe me, I worry that you only want me to touch you because you feel burdened.
I can’t trust that reasoning, even if I want you… And I do want you.” She hated to admit it, but she was understanding his hesitance more and more.
Even she wasn’t sure if her attraction was because she was rescued when she needed it.
The only way she knew how to be wanted was someone pushing through her boundaries before she could figure them out.
“Promise me you won’t stop trying to understand that attraction,” she suddenly insisted.
“Because I want to understand it fully.
I want to know what it’s like to have someone who isn’t attracted to my pheromones.” He leaned his head against the stone wall as he smiled faintly down at her.
He felt strangely honored.
“I promise,” he answered.
“I will never make you wonder if I only touched you because you owe me something.
You don’t owe me anything.” Her relief for his promise was short-lived.
She could tell he was in pain.
“What can I do?” she asked, her voice wavering.
“Give me a moment,” he requested.
His jaw was clenched shut, and his closed fist was against the brick wall as he braced himself.
He grimaced one last time, and suddenly, the sound of a metal bullet dropping from his back onto the floor was heard.
He let out a sigh of relief.
It was finished.
The pain was gone, and the Devil left the wall so that he could get his jacket off the floor.
He would have to mend the hole the bullet caused as he pushed one of his fingers through where the bullet had entered.
Regardless, he put it on.
His men would be too disturbed to see the blood on his clothing.
They would overreact as usual.
All he needed was a shower and a change of clothing.
“When you are certain that you aren’t doing this simply because you feel you owe me, let me know,” he suddenly insisted, offering her a smile that looked devious.
“I’m good at waiting.” Even if she was a werewolf, she was more patient than practically the entire breed.
Perhaps that was the biggest gift her human father had given her.
“It seems we have a lot to figure out,” Adela responded, trying to lighten the mood.
Including why the hell another werewolf tried to shoot her.
“Let us return to my castle,” Lucifer insisted.
Adela nodded and followed him out.
The protectiveness that came from being a werewolf burned within her as she looked at the hole in Lucifer’s jacket.
Her willingness to fight for herself was out of survival.
Now they had harmed someone she had started to have genuine feelings for.
Beyond that, he was good.
He didn’t deserve any of this.
They headed back to the castle, but their period of relaxation was over as guards approached them.
Lucifer was tasked with talking to the captured werewolf the moment they entered through the front door, so Adela returned to her room.
It turned out that she only needed to occupy herself for a couple of hours.
The alpha’s response came suddenly, and it was spreading quickly.