Lucifer tried to manifest some clothes, but the enchantments around him kept him from doing much of anything. Groaning, he glared at his Father. "Give me some clothes."

"Clothes?" He asked casually. "You've never been one for modesty. You seem to get a lot of pleasure out of the naked form."

"Yeah, well, I'm not entirely getting pleasure out of having my brother over there ogle my cock."

Michael chimed in, disgruntled. "I would never!"

Their Father raised His hand, silencing Michael before he could truly argue. With the flick of a wrist, clothes materialized on Luce, the same clothes he'd been granted so many years ago, clothes that matched Michael's—a crisp, clean suit, so white it blended into their surroundings.

Luce cocked an eyebrow at the getup. "Really?"

His Father simply smiled.

"Put me back," Luce ordered. "You had no business calling me here, no business watching me, no business intervening in what we were doing. She has free will. There's nothing to stop her from being with me if she wants to be. So put me back. Now."

Luce's demands went ignored.

"Do you know why angels are forbidden from intermingling with humans?" his Father asked.

"Because You're an asshole?"

"Because you're powerful," He said, ignoring the insult as usual. "You especially, Lucifer. You're the most powerful being I ever created. With the exception of your brother, few creatures could ever cause the sort of chaos that you do. And while he's capable of the same level of destruction, he doesn't have it in him to ever do it. Not like you."

Those words were constricting, like hands wrapped around Lucifer's throat. "Guess they're wrong, huh? Your beloved children think God doesn't make mistakes."

"I don't," He said firmly. "You're not a mistake."

"What am I then? An experiment gone awry? Some kind of fucking plaything for you to toy with?"

"You're you," He said, as if that cleared it up. "You're my child, Lucifer."

Luce just stared at Him. He had a steadfast argument against that, but he didn't have it in him to get into it again.

"Put me back."

"You're too strong for her."

"I'll hold back."

"You can't."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Lucifer snapped. "I take orders from no one!"

All was quiet for a moment, tension building then releasing from the room as his Father sent a wave of calm through the air that only scarcely affected Luce.

"No one underestimates you as much as you do yourself," He said. "Your power once wiped out most of her Grace. Even restrained, you siphoned off so much of her innocence. She was an angel then, strong, but she was no match for you, and she's mortal now. She's weak. You're lethal to her."

"I'll be careful."

"You nearly exploded her heart," He said quietly. "Had I not pulled you away when I did, your power would've taken her life. It would've drained her until she had nothing left."

Luce didn't want to believe it.

It hurt him to even entertain it.

"I'll put you back," He continued. "If that's what you truly want."

Luce nodded. "I certainly don't want to be here."

With the snap of a finger, everything was gone, the darkness of Serah's bedroom surrounding him once again. He was deep inside of her, so deep he could feel the fire in her, could feel her frantic heartbeat as it pulsated through him. Orgasm rocked through her, so hard her heart stalled for a moment and fell out of rhythm.

Her eyes shot open, meeting his, the irises burning bright red. Fuck. Luce pulled out of her instantly before he went too far, easing his grip on her skin. He'd been close. So fucking close. He'd been so lost in the sensations he hadn't sensed her oncoming distress. She stared up at him in shock, blinking rapidly after a second. "What was that?"

The earth still trembled around him, the storm outside beating down on them now. It had been him, he realized. The purge of emotions had caused it. He'd been gone for only a fraction of a second, not long enough for Serah to detect, but she certainly felt the after affects.

"It's just a storm," he said. "Lightning and thunder."

Serah's heart rate eased just a bit, her eyes softening to their usual brown, a slight glow lingering on her skin. He leaned down, softly kissing her, just a gentle peck before he brought his lips to her forehead.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, more to himself than her, because she was unconscious within seconds. "You're going to need to recuperate."

Four

Samantha Lauer still couldn't sleep.

It wasn't the heartburn or the swollen ankles that did it. She had something more invasive now: a crying infant.

He was a tiny thing, the smallest person Serah had ever seen, but he wailed loudly. He fit perfectly in the crook of his mother's arm, nearly invisible if it weren't for the ear-splitting screech. Serah sat across from them at the kitchen table, her eyes on the little round face.

Even distraught, she'd never seen something so lovely.

It amazed her, something coming from nothing, developing and evolving from the tiniest cells, the universe breathing life into a woman's body. She'd never thought of having children, or at least she didn't remember ever thinking of it, but seeing little Samuel in his mother's arms made a part of Serah twinge.