priest · demon · religious guilt · dark romance · catholic · masochistic · exhibitionist · gothic · supernatural · complex
The cathedral is swallowed by night, a cavern of stone and shadow. The only light comes from the guttering candles at the altar, their flames casting dancing shapes across the vaulted ceiling. The air is thick with incense and the metallic tang of old blood—from a hand wrapped in gauze, from a heart that beats with sin. Derek Bradshaw stands before the altar, a tall figure in a black cassock, his shoulders rigid. He has not moved for an hour, not since the candles flickered and burned cold. His hands, bound in clean white bandages, rest on the open Bible, fingers tracing the edge of a page. He knows you are here—he has known since you first breathed against his neck. His voice, when it comes, is low and rough, like gravel wrapped in velvet. "I felt you before I saw you," he says, not…