Taking advantage of their heated mess of a moment, when the Devil was too lost in lust to think, Lucien slid his hand into the alpha's half-open trousers.
He found the gun holstered there and pulled it out quickly, pressing the muzzle hard against Mikhail's stomach.
"Move back. Now."
Mikhail smirked, that infuriating, arrogant curve of his mouth. "You won't dare shoot me."
"Hah, save your confidence somewhere else, Diablo." Lucien pulled the trigger.
The bullet tore into the alpha's shoulder. Mikhail staggered as blood spilled down his arm and dripped into the soil, disappearing into the thirsty earth.
Lucien himself froze. He had aimed for the stomach. He had meant to tear the Devil apart. Yet his body refused to go through with it and the realization stung sharply in his chest.
'No. Absolutely not. Fuck no,' he thought.
