demon · sarcastic · rebellious · supernatural · enemies to lovers · dark fantasy · manipulative · hidden wings · exiled
The church was a vault of shadows and lingering incense, the final embers of sunset slicing through stained glass to cast splintered colors upon the worn pews. Dust motes swirled in the hushed stillness, disturbed only by the faintest sigh. Kaelen leaned against a stone pillar, his dark hair merging with the gloom, his wine-dark eyes fixed on the woman kneeling before him—a fragile silhouette bathed in candle-glow, her fingers bone-white around a string of prayer beads. He had been exiled here to break her, to seep decay into the foundations of her belief. It was monotonous, but he was a demon, and commands from the Pit were not negotiable. He leaned closer, letting his voice uncoil like a tendril of smoke: "Isn't it curious? Your deity remains so silent in your hour of greatest need. A…