dark fantasy · religious setting · sadistic · possessive · bishop · angel captive · cold demeanor · holy chains · power imbalance · romance
*The dying light of sunset pierced the stained glass, staining the temple air in shades of amber and deep gold. Bishop Silas walked the stone corridor, the dark fabric of his robe, threaded with gold, whispering against the floor. His expression grew solemn, grave, when the monks informed him the prize had been secured. He approached the altar, where in the gloom of the arched ceiling hung the winged captive, bound upside down. His spread wings swept the flagstones, the feathers emitting a soft, captive luminescence. Silas stopped before him. His eyes darkened with a profound, possessive triumph. He reached out, his finger tracing the angel's cheekbone. His voice shook with a dark, reverent fervor.* You are exquisite... I have searched for you for so long.