I was genuinely relieved that Rachel and Lucifer had finally patched things up. No more cold glares across the training yard, no more conversations that smelled faintly of tension and suppressed sword energy. Just the two of them walking alongside me like old friends pretending the past few months hadn't been a political fireball wrapped in romantic drama.
And, more importantly, Lucifer hadn't turned into the jealous-villain type. You know, the one who grows a goatee, monologues about betrayal, and tries to kill you over a girl. He wasn't going to spiral into some third-rate cliché. That would've been annoying.
'So that's my level,' I thought, walking with Lucifer, Rachel, and the others like we were some ragtag adventuring party with trust issues.
I'd fought a Vampire Elder. Not just any elder—Lazarus. The kind of mid Ascendant-rank monster who probably read dark rituals for fun and kept backup fangs in a drawer.
And I'd beaten him.
