Page 26 of Unholy Fate

Aziz finished the circle, then dug the tip deeper, twisting and shoving, moving shallowly all around. The priest’s chest was coated in blood now, his eyes wide and bloodshot, tears coursing down his cheeks, but unable to scream out.

“Fuck you and your God, priest,” Aziz said and bent his head low, taking the mostly severed nipple in between his teeth.

With a savage twist, Aziz yanked his head away, and with it, tore free the nipple. Blood surged up, and Hudson’s face twisted with agony, his head thrashing back and forth.

Aziz used his tongue to flick the tiny morsel of meat into his mouth, and began to chew. “Mmmm, tastes like bacon.” He nudged the priest with a toe. “Were you a cop in your past life, padre?”

“Roll him over,” I said, and Aziz did as I asked, Hudson rasping out panicked and agonized breaths as we did.

After tearing off the rest of his upper vestments, I brought the belt down on him again and again, slapping the leather so hard that the welts began to bleed. Strips of blood, oozed and colored the man’s back. With each strike, he flinched and bucked, pain pouring through him. At the corner of my vision, I spotted Ian with his dick out, stroking it madly, head thrown back in ecstatic pleasure, mentally bathing in the priest’s suffering.

“What’s wrong?” I grunted, slapping him again. “Isn’t this what your precioussaviorwent through? Can’t take it?” Ian stepped closer, cock still in his hand as I kicked Hudson over, and brought the belt down hard on his crotch.

The priest’s eyes went wide, face almost purple, agony written all over his face.

“Shit,” Ian grunted, stroking his cock madly; his hips bucked forward, and thick white ropes of cum burst out of the tip, shooting out, painting the tortured man’s face in milky strings of fluid.

“Leave him,” Aziz said, staring down at the ruined man in disgust. “None of the wounds will be visible when he’s dressed. He’ll be too ashamed and confused to do anything.”

I stared at the priest as he writhed, and wept on the floor, his hands helplessly pawing at his face to try and wipe away the cum that Ian had spurted onto him. It was what he deserved for pressing that fuckingthingonto her head.

Evelyn had looked so fragile and vulnerable in that bed. As the three of us faded away, vanishing from the office, anger surged through me again at the thought of someone hurting her. Why did I care about who hurt her? Why did Ian or Aziz? A strange, defensive anger simmered beneath the surface. Unfamiliar protectiveness, intense and confusing, swelled. The thought of her in pain, her vulnerability, left me trembling with rage, my muscles coiling like a spring ready to unleash at the mere prospect of anyone hurting her. If anyone dared, I’d kill them.

As we turned to leave the room, something glinted on the desk. A ring. I picked it up and turned it over in my hand.

Aziz leaned over. “That’s the ring I got Evelyn to keep from the library floor.” He took it out of my hand and slipped it into his pocket.

I arched my eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged. “What? It’s a nice memory.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EVELYN

The burnon my forehead throbbed relentlessly as I lay in bed, aching and raw beneath the bandages. I’d barely moved all day except to sip some water or stumble to the bathroom. My head was as heavy as a stone.

Was it truly a demon that had scorched its mark into my flesh? Or was I going mad, imagining unholy things? I rubbed my temples, the headache building.

My stomach let out a loud growl, pulling me from my spiral of self-pity. Despite the pain, I couldn’t hide in my room forever. With a groan, I forced myself to sit up.

“You have to face them sometime, Evelyn,” I said. “Might as well be now.”

Possibly Father Holden would tell me when my appointment was if I left my room. The thought was irrational, but it helped get me through the door.

Each step sent a jolt of discomfort through my skull as I made my way slowly down to the dining room. The aroma of pot roast,carrots, potatoes, and fresh bread reached my nose, almost comforting if not for the nerves twisting in my gut.

I paused in the doorway. Conversation stopped as I entered, a tense hush falling over the room. Gazes darted away, refusing to meet mine. They all knew. Of course they did. How could they not, with this massive bandage on my forehead?

I forced my chin high. I’d done nothing wrong. There was no reason to be ashamed.

Father Hudson sat at the head of the table, his face held in a strange expression. A weirdly haunted look rested on his face. Something like depression or bewilderment. The only time that changed was when he’d adjusted himself and winced as though in pain. I searched his expression for some hint of reassurance or sympathy, but found none. He simply watched, somewhat distracted but assessing, as I made my way to the empty seat beside Serena.

Serena didn’t even glance up as I settled next to her. The snub stung more than I wanted to admit. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.

“Hey,” I said quietly, trying to connect. “How was your day?”

Serena looked at me briefly before returning to her plate. “It was fine.” Her reply was reserved, cold. “I hope you got some rest.”

The rebuff hit me like a slap. Fighting back tears, I ladled some roast and reached for a slice of bread. But my hands shook and my throat was too tight to swallow. The distance yawning between my sisters and me was vaster than the sea.

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