Lucifer didn't get to enjoy the soft bodies of his new mistress and wife all day because the door was suddenly knocked after the sun began to rise into the sky—with the thick scent of sex, the two women began to panic.
Thankfully it was a woman knocking, Irina, pretending to be a good clergywoman and checking up on the Bishop like a good Saintess.
'It's just Irina. Why are they both so strange, whatever.' He thought before hugging them closer to his chest, stroking both of the cute women that began threatening each other the moment he pretended to sleep.
'Two crazy women, how adorable can they get.'
One was his wife, like a vicious honey badger, and the other was like a ferret vying for a better position.
He wouldn't hate them or blame them as long as it was him they hurt. Lucifer could be chopped into pieces and not die. But he would hate to see his women fighting and killing themselves where he cannot see.