Chapter One

"Ohh, fuck yes."

No other words could describe the amount of pleasure coursing hot through my veins, like liquid fire. Hot desperate gasps poured past my lips, my eyes closed against the blast of euphoria that flooded up my spine and into my head, making me dizzy. My cheeks were flushed, sweat trickling down the back of my neck and down my spine. My light brown, naturally blonde highlighted hair, stuck to my face as I struggled to contain a sob of desperation.

Large callused hands intensified the sensations wracking my form, rubbing over my swollen nipples and grazing down my back to cup my ass firmly. A hot wet mouth rose up to meet mine, capturing me in a kiss that sent another hot orgasm blazing a path through my body. I cried out and sank my fingernails into rock hard muscles that trembled beneath me. That sweet hot mouth moved to my throat and suckled hard until I was sure there'd be a bruise.

And moments later, the pleasure blinded me and I ended up laying against the headboard of my blue and green canopy bed decorated almost like a peacock. I lit up a cigarette and stuck it between my lips, inhaling lungfuls of toxic fumes before exhaling so it curled into the air in front of me.

"You were pissed today." Stanton said, making me frown and glance at him out the corner of my eye. He was laid out in the open on my bed, on his stomach with his hands propping his head up, elbows digging into my blue silk pillow.

Yeah, I'd be a liar if I said Stanton, for all his irritating qualities, was the sexiest thing alive. Well, setting aside the Deadly Sin of Lust, Devereaux. No, Stanton was gorgeous in a rugged masculine kind of way. His voice was deep and gravelly, laced with a heavy Brooklyn accent that gave me chills. His jaw was stubbled and prickly, explaining why my cheeks were all red from his nuzzling. His eyes were as pitch black as a starless night, and his blonde hair was currently swept back from his handsome face. He was completely naked so I could happily admire the rippling muscles in his back all the way down to a firm round ass that could make models weep with envy, and long muscular legs littered with blonde hairs.

"Yeah," I said after a moment of staring at him, only to stop when I saw him smirk at me, and I rolled my eyes, looking away as I took another drag on the cigarette, "Of course I'm friggin' pissed. Babysitting? Seriously? How did he talk you into that, huh?" Stanton sighed wistfully.

"He didn't need to do much convincing. Your body's addicting." He added. I rolled my eyes again and blew out a smoke ring, narrowing my eyes at it.

"Well, I don't need a fucking babysitter. You're just my fuck toy and nothing more." I responded. Even though I said it, I knew it wasn't true and that only made me angrier. Why did I have to pick him of all people to feel like this for?

Stanton was a douche. And he was also Death. Though handsome to the core of his soul, he was extremely powerful, maybe even more than a typcial god. Without him, souls bound for Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, would never make it to their destination and forever be trapped in their corpses, or they'd become ghosts. Stanton himself never went on typical jobs, pulling souls out and whatnot. That was grunt work that he left up to his army of reapers. No, Stanton was a bigger fish. He was present during the largest catastrophies. He'd been there during both World War I and World War II. He was there for the tsunami in Japan. For the Christian Crusades. Every major disaster that had taken hundreds of lives at once. He reaped the souls and he sent them to where they belonged. He usually hung out with other gods of death, like the Greek god, Thanatos, or the Japanese god of death, Izanami.

He generally visited Hell for the sole purpose of being a pain in my ass. Literally. He used to just come over to pick on me and bother me until I snapped, but we'd made the mistake of getting into a fist fight and one thing led to another and now we were sleeping together.

But that's all it was.

I didn't want to boost his ego by telling him I liked him more than just a friend with benefits, so I had told him flat out after that first time that we were only sex friends and nothing more. Even so, he'd continued to claim we were lovers.

But that would imply we were in love.

And there was no way I was going to admit to being in love with this egotistical shithead. No matter how many times he spewed lovey-dovey bullcrap. I wasn't a romantic person by nature, and there were probably genetic reasons for that. I hated being wooed and buttered up. It was all just garbage people used to get you into bed, and I just wanted to skip right to sex, then a good long smoke afterwards.

"Cigarettes are lethal," Stanton said, making me twitch in irritation as he watched me blow another stream of smoke past my lips, "They fry your lungs. Extra crispy."

"I'm immortal, asshat," I replied dryly, "I don't get fried lungs. And even if I did, it'd heal within a couple hours. Quit bugging me about it. I like smoking."

"Didn't Raven tell you to stop?" Stanton offered. I hesitated, looking at the cancer stick between my fingers as I chewed at my bottom lip. A wave of unexpected pain flooded me and I put the cigarette out, pausing to stare at it as it smoldering in the ash tray on my nightstand.

Raven was one of my older brothers. He was the leader of Lucifer's all powerful army. He'd tamed the Seven Deadly Sins. He had honed his body into a weapon that even I was afraid of actually fighting at one time. At one time, Raven had walked around with his head held high, long confident strides, and his very presence dominated the room. He was buried in his work constantly and always trying to improve, and I admired him greatly for it.

But after a battle with Julius, Raven had disappeared. Dev and Anza had told us the Greeks had taken Raven on the back of a transport vehicle that was protected by a teleportation barrier. It also didn't help that Hades itself had a barrier around it.

Months later, the search came to an abrupt halt when Hades sent over a vial of Raven's blood and a death certificate informing us that Raven had been killed.

Again, by nature, I wasn't an emotional person. Tears were foreign to me. Grief on another planet. Sorrow not even in the same category. But the moment Lucifer had sat us down and told us what had happened to Raven, I remembered that sharp pain like someone had stabbed me in the chest. Unbelievable grief swept through me and I had to leave the room because there was no way I was going to cry in front of everyone, not my siblings or Lucifer. The brother I had looked up to the most, the one who'd even stayed behind in the palace with me, had been reported dead.

And suddenly, a year later, he showed up in the middle of one of our meetings. It was like seeing a ghost come back and before I could even try to control myself, I'd run to him and hugged him.

But the moment I did, I knew something was wrong. Raven used to appear very relaxed and calm most of the time. He always had his guard up, granted, but no one would ever have guessed it. However, when I embraced him upon his return, he felt absolutely rigid. His smile was so fake it tore through me like a sword. And over the next few days after his return, I'd noticed he wasn't the same person anymore.

He was always covering himself up. He always wore turtlenecks and tight leather gloves and long pants. Even after the weather became warmer, he'd it all. The confidence in his walk had dissipated. He moved like he was always being watched or threatened. As silent as he could to the point where I was about ready to put a bell on him so he wouldn't sneak up on me anymore. He didn't meet anyone's eyes directly either. He cringed away when people tried to touch him, even my siblings and I.

And shortly after, we realized why Raven had changed. Some sick Greek bastard named Julius Alexandrite, Hades's former General, had locked Raven up somehow and done things to him that still gave me nightmares. Even worse, the monster actually recorded the first event and played it on a projection screen in the middle of a meeting for all of us to see. The video was so awful that it had taken everything I had not to vomit at the sight of it.

No, maybe it was Raven's reaction to the video that made me even more ill. I tried to tell myself the video wasn't real, that it was just garbage used to scare him, but when I turned to see his face, my stomach dropped like a rock. The horror on his face chilled me to the bone, the blood had drained from his face, and he was crying.

When it came to Raven, I suddenly felt like I could see the jerk that I was and I hated it. Which is why Stanton's comment pissed me off.

So I slumped down on the bed, pulling the blankets up over my shoulders as I turned my back to him and he sighed wearily, scooting closer and putting an arm around me, making me clench my teeth.

"Sorry," He offered sincerely, which only made it harder to be angry with him, "I just don't like seeing you hurt your body. What's the saying? Your body is a temple?" I snorted at that, trying to shrug him off me, but the guy was like a bundle of bricks; impossible to move.

"If my body was a temple, we wouldn't be having sex." I responded. Stanton wrinkled his nose, then shrugged and leaned in to nuzzle my ear, giving me goosebumps and making my cock ache. I bit my bottom lip and Stanton laughed quietly, sneaking his hand beneath the blankets to slide down my side and slip between my legs. A shiver went through me and I gasped quietly, clenching my fists in the blankets as I tried to cling to my last bit of anger, but it was so hard. Literally.

I lost control when he started to stroke my shaft and I melted, writhing and panting as he worked his hand around me until I reached another vicious orgasm, a whimper spilling past my lips. Stanton chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated my very being. His lips grazed my ear and moved down to my throat to place yet another hickey, but I finally managed to squirm away from him, throwing a pillow at his face and making him huff.

"I'm tired," I snapped, making him sigh and flop back on the bed, drawing a leg up and making his erection painfully obvious, "No more for tonight. In fact, why don't you just go home?" Stanton pouted and I swore I felt myself twitch with another onset of desire.

Oh, hell no. I'm so done. My body hurts. My cock hurts.

"I was thinking I'd stay the night," He decided, "Besides, I am your babysitter. I have to make sure you get tucked into bed." He rolled onto his stomach again and gave me a flirty smile. Heat crept into my cheeks and I scowled at him instead of replying before I went to my bathroom across the room, slamming the door shut behind me. My body quivered, urging me to go back in that room and jump on him again, but I refused to let him think he had control over me. I swallowed down a lump in my throat and went to shower, letting ice cold water shower down my body.

And the water wasn't cold just because I needed to cool down my hormones. It was cold because the cold was always where I went.

A frown worked onto my face as I cupped my hands out in front of me to collect a handful of water. A second later, it froze solid and stuck to my skin with a cold burning sensation that didn't bother me in the least. I clenched my teeth, then looked up when I realized the water had stopped falling. The water had frozen solid and the pipes were trembling. I cursed and quickly stepped out, watching the water quickly melt and return to normal. I sighed in frustration, then took deep even breathes to calm myself down.

This happened every time I got worked up. My powers decided they wanted to torment me for losing it, so they froze almost everything around me. It was a good thing it didn't happen during sex; otherwise, Stanton would be a popsicle. The image made me smirk and was enough to calm me down so I could finish my shower before I quickly got out and dried off. I left the bathroom with a towel around my waist, going to my underwear drawer when Stanton's groggy voice purred from the bed.

"Wear the red ones. You look good in red." He murmured. I rolled my eyes and opened my drawer, shoving aside boxers and briefs until I found my secret stash at the bottom of the drawer. Secret stash of what? Lacy underwear. It was a shameful fetish I'd developed thanks to Stanton after he'd dared me to wear a pair as a joke during our second time. And ever since, I was addicted to the soft lace on my skin and the gentle caress of it against my genitals.

And nobody knew about it, except Stanton.

If anyone else knew about it, they'd laugh at me. Just thinking about it made my face catch fire. God, I'd have to kill myself if anyone knew about this.

Listening to Stanton, I pulled out the pair of thin lacy red panties and dropped my towel. I could feel Stanton's stare on my back as I slid one leg in, then the other, taking my sweet time. They were pretty thin and flimsy, but it felt so soft and gentle against my skin. The back was sheer and shaped like a small heart just at the start of the cleft of my ass before dipping down so low that it was nearly a thong. I grabbed a plain gray t-shirt from my dresser, threw it on, and sauntered to the bed where Stanton was watching me intensely. He reached for me when I'd gotten settled in, but I kicked him in the shin and he hissed in the dark as I shut off the lamp.

"Hell no," I told him sternly, "I'm tired."

"Aw, come on. You put that show on for me and then you just cockblock me?"

"Hell yeah. That's what you get for being an assfuck."

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean."

"Use your imagination."

"I am and it's hurting me."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud. Just go to bed. I'll giving you a quicky in the morning." I grumbled. Stanton sighed in frustration and I felt him shift in the bed, rolling over so his back was to me, as mine was to him. And oddly enough, that tiny gesture hurt. I wanted to feel him wrapped around me. I wanted to wake up with that steel arm around my waist and his groin pressed up against my ass, his hot breath on the back of my neck... But I didn't want to give him that kind of power over me, so I gritted my teeth and struggled to fall asleep.

Not that that was any easier. I was always tired because I could never sleep. I didn't tell anyone about my inability to get more than four hours of sleep. If I did, Lucifer would be concerned and climb all over me about it and try to fix it and I didn't want him tampering with me any further. I was tired of being his little science experiment.

I was a person. I think.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to relax, taking deep calming breathes and just imagining things that would soothe me, but nothing worked. Fed up with trying to sleep, I waited until Stanton was out like a light and crept out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants before I made my way out of the room and down the hallway with the intention to get to the kitchen. Maybe a little tea or warm milk would put me to sleep. Raven had once told me that any dairy products before bed caused nightmares, but honestly, I'd even settle for a sleep riddled with nightmares.

I heard the dull thud of someone putting a cup down as I approached the family kitchen on the second floor. A frown worked onto my face as I peered inside, my shoulders slumping as I caught sight of Raven digging through the fridge.

He didn't sleep much lately either for obvious reasons.

I cleared my throat and Raven didn't even react as I entered, except to respond as he took out a jar of strawberry jam.

"I'm making something to eat. Want some?" He asked, kicking the fridge door shut and moving to the loaf of bread he'd pulled out. I shrugged, wandering over to hover near him out of habit. My chest ached when he shied away from me, pretending he needed to look for another plate. I tried not to let it get to me, because I knew it wasn't completely his fault, but it still bothered me.

"What're you doing up?" Raven asked without looking at me as he popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster and set it to extra crispy. I chewed at my bottom lip, debating whether to tell Raven about my inability to sleep, but I was instantly reminded of what he'd done when I told him I wanted to bring Akin back. He'd gone running to Jaques about it and Jaques was set on keeping me here, and our estranged brother in a brutal realm. It pissed me off just thinking about it.

"Not tired." I snapped at him. Raven sighed and I glared at him for it, but he brushed it off as he moved back to the fridge so he could take out a gallon of milk.

"I thought you said milk gave you nightmares." I accused. Raven gave me a droll stare.

"Even milk couldn't give me nightmares worse than reality." Was his response. I bit down on my tongue as I watched him brush past me and pour a couple glasses before he popped it in the microwave for a bit. My eyes followed him the entire time, but I could tell it was making him uncomfortable. I noticed he was still wearing his gloves and a white turtleneck to go with a pair of gray sweatpants. I didn't know what he looked like under there, not anymore anyway, but whatever it was, it was enough to scare him into wearing that on a hot night like this.

"Is Stanton staying the night? I didn't see him leave." Raven said after a while. I narrowed my eyes on him. I knew that nonchalant tone and he couldn't hide it from me. He sounded just like Jaques and it irritated me to no end.

"Yeah. He is. I don't harass you about Dev staying the night." I snapped impatiently. Dev, the sin of Lust, was also Raven's boyfriend and most of Raven's time was taken up by the bastard. They hadn't even slept together yet, again for obvious reasons, but somehow they ended up having a relationship. What the heck did they do if they didn't have sex? Play checkers?

"Dev isn't a creep," Raven deadpanned and when I glared at him, he blushed lightly, "Okay, maybe sometimes, but really, Alaric, Stanton? Of all people? He's Death for God's sake."

"Yeah, and you're fucking Lust." I immediately regretted that. Raven swallowed hard and turned his back to me as he grabbed the toast just as it popped up from the toaster so he could lay them out on a couple of plates.

"I wish I was," Raven said, his voice tight, "Alaric, I'm just worried about what you're gonna do next. I'm already worried about Dania. She hasn't called in a couple days."

"She always does that."

"Not recently," Raven said sourly, turning to shove my plate at me, making me glare at him, "Everyone seems to take it upon themselves to call me every couple hours and now when someone doesn't call, I freak out. Thanks for the anxiety." I snorted as I hopped up on the counter, and Raven did the same so he could reach over and take our milk out of the microwave.

"I don't call you. Don't thank me."

"I will thank you for not calling me every six seconds."

"Then you're welcome," I replied with a huff, then crunched down on the toast and savored the thin layer of peanut butter he'd placed beneath the jam, "Anyway, don't worry about Stanton. I have him under my thumb just fine. Besides, we're just sleeping together." Raven made a face of agony at that and I didn't understand why. It's not like Stanton and I were dating or anything.

"Alaric, that's the problem," He said, making me scowl in confusion, "Why are you throwing that kind of intimacy away on him? Don't you want an actual relationship?" I gritted my teeth at that. He was only saying that because his virginity was stolen. And he thinks I trashed mine on Stanton... which I did. But it wasn't a waste. Stanton was great in bed. Didn't sleeping together count as an actual relationship? Besides, dating him would just be a waste of time. It'd make him think I cared about him, think that I would be willing to give myself up completely, and then he'd start crawling all over me for not sharing my feelings or some bullshit like that.

"I like this relationship, Rave, seriously," I assured, but he still appeared doubtful as he sipped at his milk, "I don't want none of that mamby-pamby bullcrap. I can share my bed, but I won't share my time or my feelings. I'm not a woman." Raven appeared offended by that.

"Sharing your feelings does not make you a woman. It makes you a person."

"And I'm barely a person." I snapped. Raven flinched and went silent. Neither of us said anything as we nibbled on our toast, the crunching of it and the occasional slurp of milk being the only sounds in the kitchen before Raven's cell went off and he left the kitchen. From the sounds of it, it was Dania finally calling to check up. I shook my head, tossed my plate away, and went back to my room where Stanton was still sleeping as heavy as a rock. I crawled into bed after throwing off my sweatpants, about to roll onto my back, but I didn't want to sleep all by myself on the other side of the bed.

Against all my natural instincts, I scooted back across the bed and pressed myself against Stanton's broad muscular back. I sighed, slipping my arm around his torso and splaying my hand across his eight pack, shivering at the feel of it rising and falling steadily beneath my palm. I buried my face against his back, listening to his heart pound in his chest, savoring the warmth radiating off his body. As hot as the night was, it was still too cold for me to sleep alone.

And I hated this part of me.

I hated this dependency I had on the people around me. I hated being alone, but it was the only thing that felt safe and comfortable. I hated how much I loved Stanton, his obnoxious quirks and all. I hated how much I cared about Raven and what he thought. And most of all, I just hated feeling. Emotions were a complexity that I loathed to the core of my artificial soul.

Artificial. My stomach clenched tight on that thought as I tightened my grip on Stanton, afraid to let myself fall into that same emotional tirade on myself, but no matter how much I clung to him, my insecurities flooded my brain harshly.

I wasn't real, but I was real. Did that make sense? No, it didn't, but that was the only way I could describe myself. Unlike my siblings, who were all born to Lucifer and some random woman he shacked up with, I was nothing, but a... a what? I didn't even have a species. I wasn't even part angel like my siblings. Or part jinn, part fae, part whatever. I was just... Alaric. Even my name was just something Lucifer slapped on my ass after he created me. I grew up just like my siblings. I went from infant to adult, just like everyone else, but I was missing so much.

What did having a mother feel like? Someone who could cradle you to sleep at night and kiss you goodnight? A mother who could caress your face and smile at you, make you meals, teach you right from wrong. What was that like? Granted, my siblings probably didn't know either. Most of their mothers ran off after they'd given birth. Raven's mother, Bethany, had just thrown Raven at Lucifer and took off. Thorn's mother fled because she was technically a slave. Dania's mother was murdered. Jaques's mother was never named and even Jaques never spoke of her. It was taboo. Bali and Wednesday's mother died of old age in the mortal realm. But at least some of them grew up knowing what it was like to have a mother.

And what was I?

Just a bunch of garbage and genetics thrown into a blender and set to frappe?

If I ever said that to Lucifer, he'd go baslistic. The one time, as a teenager, I had accused him of not being my father, he'd almost screamed at me. It was the only time I'd ever see him lose his temper. He didn't hit me, no, on the contrary, he picked me up and hugged me and told me he was as much his son as any of his other children.

But I didn't believe it and I never would.

At least, I tried not to. I didn't want to get attached to him. I was already attached to siblings that weren't even technically my siblings. Well, they were considering I was carrying a good portion of Lucifer's genetics, but how could they be my siblings if I wasn't even a person? I wasn't even part-angel.

What was I?

Who was I?

Pain swept through me and I pressed my cheek to Stanton's back, breathing hard as I struggled to control myself. I hated Lucifer for giving me emotions. I just hated them. What use were they? All they did was hurt. It hurt so much that sometimes I just wanted to reach into my chest and rip everything out in hopes of silencing them, but the one time I'd tried to claw my chest open as a child, Lucifer had caught me and forbade me to do it again. Not that it could stop me now, but I never wanted to see that look on his face again. That obscene parental agony. It hurt.

"Stanton?" I whispered, desperate to get out of this horrible thought process. He shifted a little and pushed at my arm, like he wanted me to just go away. I bit my lip, then licked at his back and I felt a shudder go through him.

"Stanton, I wanna go again."

"I'm already asleep." Stanton grumbled, the vibrations of his chest driving me wild. I licked my lips hungrily and sat up, shoving him onto his back and climbing on top of him, making him groan, both in frustration and sexual hunger. His eyes fluttered open groggily so he was staring up at me through hooded eyes. I pulled my shirt up off over my head and tossed it aside, rubbing myself against him through the thin lacy panties. Stanton's breathing seemed ragged now and I felt him harden beneath me.

Bingo. I win.

But I always won.

"Wake up," I murmured, rubbing my hands on his chest, massaging at his pecs, "Come on. Feed me." Stanton moaned, moving one hand along my leg until he reached the thin panties and he trailed his finger along the crotch of it, tickling me and making me wiggle my hips eagerly. His other hand swept up my back, and a second later, we were flipped over and I was laying on my back, legs spread open as Stanton buried himself inside me and I cried out, arching my back, reaching up to grasp the headboard of the bed desperately. My body shuddered and ached.

Honestly, I didn't have enough stamina for this. It actually hurt more than it felt good, but it was a lovely distraction from my own mental tirade. I savored the split of muscles as Stanton drove himself inside me, grabbing my legs and hoisting them over his shoulders. I watched him, breathing hard as he looked down at me with piercing black eyes. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face and hit me on the cheeks before he leaned down and captured my mouth in a hungry, almost violent kiss. I savored it and the taste of apricots on his breath. His breath always smelled like apricots, but he himself smelled like sex and masculinity. It drove me wild.

And a moment later, I came so hard I fainted.

Thank god, I can actually sleep now.