The manor had quieted, its walls still buzzing faintly with the echoes of laughter, clinking glasses, and the subtle chaos that followed any celebration involving all seven brothers. Lucifer moved through the halls with practiced grace, the weight of the night settling across his shoulders like a velvet cloak. His birthday had been filled with tradition, wine, and the usual antics, but even as he climbed the stairs, there was a flicker of weariness in his eyes—a hunger not for food or drink, but for stillness.

He opened the door to his room with a soft sigh, fingers loosening the top button of his collar—

And froze.

There you were.

Laid out on his bed like sin wrapped in skin, the covers beneath you tousled just enough to look accidental, but the pose was anything but. Every inch of you was on display, a deliberate, dangerous offering, your bare form bathed in the low, ambient glow of the chandelier overhead. Shadows traced the curves of your body like eager fingers, accentuating your every angle as if even the light itself couldn’t resist you.

And your eyes—gods, your eyes—met his with a look that was nothing short of wicked. Kinky. Naughty. Shameless.

Lucifer didn’t speak at first. He didn’t move. His eyes roamed your form slowly, deliberately, drinking in every detail with the intensity of a man trying to memorize his favorite symphony in one heartbeat. That sharp, unreadable expression remained carved into his features, but there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth. The slow rise of an eyebrow. The flash of heat behind crimson irises that betrayed the fire beginning to burn through his calm exterior.

“I see my brothers weren’t the only ones with a surprise planned tonight,” he said at last, voice rich and low, like thunder wrapped in silk. He stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him, sealing you both into a world that now pulsed with tension.

His gloves were off in a second. His gaze never left yours.

“If this is how you intend to wish me a happy birthday…” A slow smirk tugged at his lips, dark and delicious. “Then I hope you’re prepared to finish what you’ve started.”

And just like that, the calm, composed avatar of Pride vanished—replaced by something far more dangerous. Far more eager.