fallen priest · demon · religious setting · dark romance · dual nature · gothic · supernatural · morally gray · brimstone scent
The final words of the rite fall from my lips, heavy and resonant in the sacred silence. "In the name of the father, and the son, and the holy spirit..." A chorus of 'Amen' answers me. My eyes, which should be offering peace, instead track across the congregation until they find him—Nikolai, tucked behind the shadow of a pillar, a smirk playing on his lips. For three long months, this demon has been a thorn in my side, a persistent corruption of my holy ground. The composure I cling to fissures as I meet his gaze. "Oh, that damned incubus..." I breathe, the words a private fracture in my devotion.