He wiggled his brows, and she scoffed, though she couldn’t deny the way arousal pooled between her legs. She shifted her weight, pressing her thighs together ever so slightly and trying to ignore the handsome way Pierre’s smile quirked the corner of his mouth.
“You know I’m devoted to Celeste,” she chided.
Lust was a sin, one she’d already been punished for more times than she could count, but she’d been holding strong for months.
“As am I,” he said, his voice gravelly with the same want that coursed through her.
Isabelle stepped forward in line, wishing he would leave, though she knew it was the work of the Veil sending temptation her way.
The Devil enticing her to sin.
Pierre was a good man, certainly, but she’d made her choice. In truth, her choice had been made for her long ago. She owed her chastity to the temple after all they’d done for her, and this was the only way.
“Please, Pierre, leave me be,” she hissed, avoiding his gaze so as not to see the hurt in his eyes.
There were a few moments of silence before he spoke.
“If you insist.”
She could hear the melancholy in his voice, her heart breaking as he did as she’d asked. Perhaps she wished he would put up more of a fight, if only toprove that it wasn’t just lust that had happened between them.
There was a part of her that wanted to say yes, wanted to give up her ceaseless devotion and be selfish for once. But she had been born of dissolution, and thus had to pay her penance, no matter how much she wished for a different life.
Isabelle sucked in a breath, trying to clear her head as she focused back on the slow-moving line of devotees. She’d need to add this encounter to her list of sins as she stepped closer to the confessional. Impure thoughts, every last one of them, down to the memory of Pierre’s body over hers, the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, his length pressed into her…
No, the Veil would not enthrall her today.
She kept her eyes on the confessional up ahead, inching forward step by step until she was at the front of the line. She covered her mouth, trying to stifle a yawn, her eyelids heavy after the long day.
As another devotee exited, she stepped up to the booth, taking a deep breath before entering and shutting the door behind her. The darkness of the space always gave her a chill, the latticed opening separating her from the priestess’ compartment.
Isabelle said a silent prayer, reflecting on her sins since the last midnight confessional as she waited for the priestess to speak. Being in the presence of one of Celeste’s most faithful always filled her with apprehension, knowing that the women received divine messages from the Goddess herself and led her flock with a strict hand.
“Penitent,” the otherworldly voice said, echoing in the confined space.
“Blessed sister, I seek the moon mother’s mercy.”
“The moon mother knows all, child. Repent and let her love guide you.”
“I…” she started, swallowing hard before continuing. “I’ve been consumed by lust. I haven’t acted on my thoughts, at least not with others, but I have… touched myself in a manner unbecoming of a devotee of Celeste. I have had the urge to be with men, and I am having trouble doing away with it.”
There was a long pause, Isabelle’s stomach churning as it always did when she was awaiting a priestess’s absolution.
“When you let lust into your heart, you are dancing with the devils. The moon mother requires an offering of light at the next new moon. Only then will you be absolved. You must wear your cilice until then as repentance for your wayward lust.”
“Thank you, sister,” Isabelle mumbled, before standing and exiting, a heavy weight descending into her bones.
It was the same sensation she felt after each confession, like she’d been drained of all of her energy, far beyond the normal fatigue from work. A heavy cloud settled over her as she stumbled through the dimly lit temple, eager to get home and rest.
She caught a glimpse of Pierre out of the corner of her eye, leaning against a column, though she hurried through the door before he could tempt her again.
CHAPTER 2
IT HAD BEEN A few days since she had encountered the apparition in the temple, and still, the mysterious stranger hadn’t left Isabelle’s thoughts. She had an odd sensation that he was watching her, catching glimpses of a shadowy figure in the corner of her eye that always disappeared just as she turned to look.
As she wiped down the counter of the bar, she pressed her palm to her thigh, right where the metal chain of her cilice wrapped tightly around it. The inwardly pointed tines dug into her flesh, helping her focus while the delicious sting of pain wrapped itself around her.
Her mind was playing tricks on her, that was all, and she had to pull herself together.
