Lucifer's gaze lingered on Gabriel, the lazy amusement in his golden eyes slowly sharpening into something deeper—appraising, almost tender, like a predator recognizing an old companion in the wild.
He tilted his head just enough for the starlight to catch the edges of his feathers, and the silent question slid along their hidden thread.
*Do you now intend to swear your loyalty to me, brother?*
Gabriel stood motionless before the throne, face still carved from unyielding marble in expression.
Yet within the privacy of their minds, his answer came swift and certain.
*Yes. Yes, i do.*
A low, velvet chuckle rolled through Lucifer's chest—soft enough that only Seraphina caught the edge of it aloud, though she could not hear its cause. In the hidden space between them, the sound was richer, warmer, edged with genuine delight.
*Of course.*
