Page 42 of Unholy Fate

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

EVELYN

I was wokenby the pale sunlight filtering through the thin curtain in the familiarity of my own room. Like a shattered film reel, flashes of disjointed images assaulted my mind. Levi’s strong grip on my hips, his guttural rasp murmuring obscene commands as he had done things that hurt and made me scream in pleasure at the same time. The memory created a low thrum that fluttered in my core, a searing reminder of the pleasure he’d brutally extracted from me.

The silent tears streamed down my face, hot and heavy, as I buried my head in my hands. I drew my knees to my chest, rocking silently and frantically, my thoughts warring between shame for betraying my sacred vows and the heat of his touch still lingering inside me.

He had to have given me some kind of drug. There was no other explanation for the delirious arousal that had overtaken me, stripping away my ability to resist and making me a willing participant in abandoning my oaths. And yet… the betrayal of being drugged was overshadowed by the horrifying realizationthat a twisted part of me had enjoyed submitting to Levi’s dominance.

Shouldn’t I despise him? Shouldn’t I want to scream at him, to demand punishment against him for his violation? Instead of righteous fury, desire simmered beneath my shame. Yes, I desired to smash my fist into Levi’s handsome face for dominating me, but an even darker urge longed for him to overpower me and do it all over again.

What was wrong with me? It wasn’t the sting of broken chastity or the degradation of being used like a toy. No, the worst part was the hunger, a persistent yearning for Levi’s touch.

Disgusted with myself, I hauled myself from the bed, my legs unsteady beneath me, the room swaying slightly. I had to pull myself together. I couldn’t let this break me. Mechanically, I showered and dressed, determined to bury these confusing feelings and carry on with my duties.

In my heart, a quiet transformation had begun, subtly eroding the beliefs I once cherished, leaving them distant and alien. Whatever Levi had awakened, it was a potent, sinful poison slipping through my veins.

Driven by a desperate, clawing need for answers and absolution, I was propelled toward Father Hudson’s office, the only place I hoped to find peace, its familiar comfort drawing me closer. I practically flew down the hall, each step a muffled thud in the quiet building. There was a storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Mortification, guilt, a perplexing hint of pride, all underpinned by a deep, smoldering rage.

Father Hudson’s door stood slightly ajar. Taking a slow cleansing breath, I tapped softly and stepped inside. “Father? Will you hear my confession?”

He glanced up from the papers he was reading, his expression calm but wary. “Of course, Evelyn. Please, have a seat. What brings you here?”

My knees buckled beneath me and I sank to the floor, my fingers clasped together in a prayer that was as much for strength as it was forgiveness. My hands shook, mirroring the tremor that ran through my entire body.

“Father, f-forgive me, for I have sinned,” I stammered through the familiar rite. Where to even begin? “I... I need to confess something. Something terrible.”

I’d planned to be vague, but the words that tumbled out in a chaotic rush revealing everything, the erotic dreams that had plagued me, the shame of sexual desire, the intoxicating sense of power it gave me to be wanted.

Falteringly, I recounted what Levi did to me, how he touched me, the degrading things he made me say.

“I should be broken after being treated that way. Violated. But instead... it energized me. Like I could do anything, take on the world. What’s the matter with me, Father? Why is God allowing me to be tempted and treated this way?”

I realized I was weeping, each hot tear burning a path down my cheeks. Father Hudson leaned forward, fixing me with an intent stare that seemed to pierce straight through me.

“Evelyn, we should take to heart the Lord’s words,” he said, opening the bible on his desk to First Corinthians, his fingerhovering over the text. “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”

A thoughtful frown furrowed his brow. “Evelyn, I believe this is a test. The Bible assures us that God offers a refuge and the strength to overcome temptations. You must fight these feelings with all your strength.”

“Fight them? But I already gave in. I’m weak, Father. I failed.” Fresh sobs wracked my body.

Father Hudson’s tone sharpened. “You must channel your emotions, Evelyn. Your anger. Your wrath. These are gifts from the Almighty. Holy fire that can purge you of sin, if you master them.”

Taken aback, I blinked, stammering, “Wrath? I don’t understand, Father. I’ve committed myself to living a life as free from sin as I can, striving for purity in thought, word, and deed.”

How could embracing anger possibly help me overcome my failings? It was unclear to me, but Father Hudson’s intensity was compelling.

Father Hudson smiled, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “Not all anger is sinful. Even God has been angry. Without His wrath, we would not have the teachings of Noah. Righteous anger is a beautiful thing, a force for justice, for strength.”

His words resonated with a bitter truth, stirring a dormant rage within me. I had spent years suppressing my anger, believing it to be sinful and shameful. Given the green light to set it free, it was bubbling upward, a hot, roiling mass that threatened to erupt with a hiss and a roar.

My hands, slick with sweat and trembling like hummingbird wings, caught his attention. He stepped closer, gently coaxing. “Let it out, Evelyn. Don’t hold it in. Release it.”

On Father Hudson’s desk, amongst a scattering of papers and pens, sat a small porcelain statue of the Virgin Mary. I was immediately drawn to it. The serene, beatific expression on her face seemed to mock me.

Something inside me snapped. I grabbed the figurine and hurled it against the wall. It shattered on impact, shards scattering across the floor. I stood there trembling and panting, my heart pounding in my ears.

What had I done? Destroyed a holy icon in a fit of rage? Shame flooded through me, but it was quickly chased by a perverse thrill. The release had felt good. Wickedly good.

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