“Brother Elijah,” Father Jacob says, face hard as stone, eyes narrowing at my facial expression. The one I know I can’t disguise anymore, no matter how hard I try. I’m done. “You’d know all about sinning, wouldn’t you?”
My head whips to look at Micah, who has his head cocked to the side, and I snarl at him. I’ve never hated someone before, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m feeling right now. A deep hatred that’s ingrained into my bones. I will fucking kill him.
I stand abruptly, causing Father Jacob to stumble back a step, fear in his eyes for one fleeting second before he masks it once more. But it was there. I didn’t imagine it. He’s scared of me right now. Of Azriel too. I know it. I can feel it. So I take another step forward until I’m standing in the aisle right across from him. This time, he stands his ground, not wanting to look weak even though he clearly is.
“We are gathered here today because one of our own has fallen, and we must lift him up once again.” There are gasps fromthe other seminarians, and I throw my head back and laugh. Father Jacob’s eyes narrow. “He must repent and be made holy once more.”
At this, my hands do shake. Mostly because I’ve tried so hard to escape the shame that eats at me, but he’s pressing a button I’ve tried to disable, and he’s pushing and pushing. He must sense my weakness, because his lips curl into an evil grin. I dip my chin, and just as I’m about to make a run for it, I hear footsteps behind me. I’m hauled into a warm body, one I’d recognize anywhere, and gasp. I’m not sure if I feel relieved or terrified. I think both. I can’t shield him from this, and I don’t like the look in Father Jacob’s eyes.
“Come, Elijah,” Father Jacob demands, stretching a hand toward me. “You must remember your place in this church.”
“My place is by his side,” I reply with my chin raised in defiance, and he bristles.
Father Jacob lifts his hand and makes the sign of the cross over me, then sprinkles me with holy water. I flinch, casting my eyes down, before I remember to be strong and make eye contact again. This time, I’m unmoving and unflinching, letting Azriel’s arm around my waist give me strength.
“I command you, demon, whoever you are, attacking this servant of God, depart!” Father Jacob yells, his voice echoing in the chapel.
Azriel laughs, low and throaty. “Elijah is not possessed. He is chosen.”
My body relaxes slightly at his words, and this time I smile. My lashes flutter when his hand tightens around my hip, and my cheeks heat. “You call him a demon,” I say to Father Jacob, making eye contact with him. He’s shaking and red with anger, and it brings me a deep sense of satisfaction. “But he saved me.”
“He damned you,” Father Jacob spits. “You’ll burn in eternal fire?—”
“Then I’ll burn with him!” I yell. “I promised myself to him. Our souls are bound for all eternity, and if I must burn, then so be it.”
Father Jacob’s top lip curls as he takes a step forward, and Azriel pulls me into his side immediately, shielding me with a wing around my body. I feel safe. For the first time in my life, I’m right where I belong.
“Leave,” Father Jacob says, voice shaking. “You are no longer welcome here. We cast you out, heathen. From now until the end of time, we rebuke you.”
I nod, though my entire body is now violently shaking. There are tears in my eyes as I turn around and walk away, going to my room to pack my things. I’m not crying because I’m sad I won’t be part of this anymore. I’m crying because I wasted years of my life doing this. Because I gave the church parts of me I’ll never get back now.
Azriel follows me into my room as I open the door, and I get my suitcase out of the closet and begin to shove all my belongings in there. I don’t have much, which means this will be quick. I’m not sure if I’m grateful for that or if it’s making me feel even worse. I can so easily leave this place behind, but it’ll always leave me broken and scarred.
“Meet me at the chapel in the woods when you’re done here,” Azriel says softly, pressing a hand to my lower back as I shove even more clothes into my luggage. “Our place.”
“Alright.” I nod once, and he leans in and kisses me. He pulls away quickly though, making me miss him immediately.
Azriel leaves quietly as I finish packing, going to my bathroom to get my toothbrush and toiletries. When I come back into my room, Micah is standing next to my open suitcase and staring at it. I stop in my tracks, not knowing what to do. Before I can decide, he turns around and makes eye contact with me. I want to kick him out, scream at him, and hit him. Instead, I stayquiet and wait for him to get it off his chest. He’s clearly here for a reason. But he just stands there and stares, saying nothing.
I walk past him and finish packing, closing the zipper of my luggage and hauling it off the bed. I grab the handle and begin to walk away, but when Micah clears his throat, I stop in my tracks. I don’t look at him though, instead, facing forward. I’m halfway out the door anyway, and there’s nothing he can say to get me to stay now.
“You should’ve picked me,” Micah whispers, and my hands shake with my restraint. I’m doing my best not to walk back and throttle him, which means I really need to get out of here. Quickly. “It should’ve been me.”
“Thank your God it wasn’t,” I spit. “I’ll never live a lie with you.”
“Elijah—”
“Have a nice life,” I tell him, cutting him off. “I hope I never see you again.”
With those parting words, I leave.
All I feel is relief.
Elijah looks otherworldly as he lies on his back in the middle of the circle I carved into the tile of the abandoned chapel. His legs are spread, giving me a perfect view of the hole I’m going to fill tonight, cock hard in his hand as he strokes it slowly. His lashes flutter as he stares at me, lids drooping, mouth parted on a moan. The light of the full, yellow moon shines on him, making him look like he belongs in heaven, and suddenly, I feel unworthy of such a perfect man.
He came here right after packing, dragging his luggage and throwing it to the side once he got here. We crashed into each other with so much force that my soul was rearranged, and his clothes were off before I knew what was happening. I’m aware we need to leave the seminary, but I couldn’t bring myself to reject him. He wants my body—he said he needed it to feel better. So that’s what I’m doing. Once we’re done, we can go far away.
I spent hours thinking about what’s next for us after we move on from here. Staying in Texas is out of the question, and we’ve never had a conversation about the possibilities of our future. Idon’t think he ever considered leaving the church willingly, and now life is slapping him across the face. He’s being forced out, just as he always feared. Nonetheless, I will remain by his side through it all. We just need to figure out our next steps. I refuse to go blindly.
