Technical Purity
by TempleSiren_NULL
Author’s note: This story was the winner of mcforum’s “Stranger at the Door” contest.
Seraphina awoke to the sound of howling. The light of the full moon streamed in through her window.
In a flash, she was out of bed and in her robes. No normal wolves could be heard this far into the city. It could only be a creature of the night. Her hand lightly grazed the holy symbol about her neck and she felt relief wash over her. The Creator was with her, she would redeem this agent of the devils.
And her patrons would reward her handsomely for doing so.
“Mighty Creator above, allow me to ride the winds and meet this intruder,” she spoke with practiced reverence.
The windows to her tower bedroom lazily opened on their own and the wind outside began howling louder than the werewolf. Without any fear that she might fall, Seraphina stepped through her window and gazed down hundreds of feet to the ground below.
The wind swept her away. Over the gardens of the Sancrest estate and into the city proper. The gentle fragrance of her home faded and was quickly replaced with that of fire, waste, and rot. The city was a disgusting place. She would do her work and return quickly.
The Creator’s winds carried her to an alley behind a modest restaurant. The smell of rot was replaced with the smell of seared meat and broth.
The odor of commoner’s food was equally repulsive to Seraphina. Regardless, The Creator had led her here and she would serve her god as the faithful priestess she was.
In the alley stood a hulking man covered in fur. Beneath him was a young woman, covered in blood and grasping an injured shoulder. The werewolf lifted his head to take the final bite and end the woman’s life.
“Be still,” Seraphina said, with all the authority granted by her position.
There was a deafening chiming sound, like thunder raised several octaves, as chains of light erupted from the ground and wrapped around the werewolf. Each of his legs, his arms, and even his neck were all placed in bondage. He swiped at Seraphina who simply stood there and let his claws rip at her arm.
It didn’t really matter to her if she bled. She could heal herself after this was dealt with.
“I said, be still.”
The chains suddenly tightened and forced him to the ground. He howled and thrashed and did everything he could to escape, but it was all for naught. Even with the great power granted by the devil of the moon, he could not escape The Creator’s chains.
Seraphina walked over to the girl bleeding in the alley.
“Child, know that The Creator watches you and keeps you. May we be healed by his light.”
As the Creator’s warm glow began soothing both injured women, Seraphina idly wondered how many times she had said those words. She wondered the same thing every time. She really ought to keep better track. It’d make it easier to claim a reward.
By the time she was done musing, the girl had been healed. The blood lost was not restored, but the wound had been closed. The girl’s life was not in danger.
The girl rubbed her neck and the place where she had been bitten and, to Seraphina’s mild surprise, stood up.
“Thank you, Madam Priestess. Thank you with all my heart.”
Seraphina turned from the writhing monster on the ground to the young woman before her. The woman was thin, but not unkempt. She looked to be in her late teens. Just barely an adult.
“The Creator’s light favors you more than most,” Seraphina said, “Have you protected your purity for him?”
The woman nodded. “Yes, I wanted to be…” she hesitated for a moment, “I wanted to be like you, a priestess of The Creator. I’ve let no man touch me, thus my purity is ensured.”
Seraphina put on a fake smile.
“Then I wish you the best in your endeavors. May we meet again within his service.”
The young woman smiled earnestly and Seraphina looked away and began to whisper under her breath.
“Great Creator, please take us back to the Sancrest Estate thus this servant of the moon-devil may be redeemed through your trials.”
Seraphina closed her eyes to guard against the burst of light.
* * *
When Seraphina opened her eyes, she was in the Sancrest Manor basement, and the wolf-man was in a prison cell made of silver bars. The chains of light were gone and he was sniffing and inspecting the bars, clearly trying to determine some method of escape.
Seraphina again touched the holy symbol at her neck. She felt the warmth of The Creator guiding her. By his will, she would purify this servant of the moon-devil.
“The first trial,” she said as his eyes suddenly focused on her, “is that of purity.”
Without fear, Seraphina approached the werewolf. She reached through the bars and lightly caressed his fur. The werewolf, clearly fearful of what harm might come to him while trapped in a silver cage, held back his fangs.
“This fur coat marks you as the moon-devil’s. By the grace of The Creator, you may shed it. Reveal your pure form and I shall unlock the cage.”
The werewolf reeled back from her touch, or maybe it was her words he flinched from. Then, for the first time, the creature spoke. His voice was deep and gravelly, like someone who had indulged in pipe tobacco from a young age.
“Swear it to me, priestess. Swear in the name of your god that you’ll release me from the cage if I show you my lesser form.”
Seraphina smiled that same fake smile she’d shown the girl in the alley.
“A priestess is always as good as her word, but I have no compunction in making that oath. You have my word in the name of The Creator, reveal your pure form and I shall unlock the cage.”
The werewolf nodded and began to change.
He began to shrink and the fur that covered his body fell to the floor as if a barber-surgeon had given him an extensive trim. What was left was a fat, disheveled man just barely taller than Seraphina. Bald and naked as the day he was born.
“There. Now make good on–”
Before he could finish, the door swung open.
“As I said, a priestess is always as good as her word. Now come with me, we have two more trials, and I’m tired.”
With her back to her foe, Seraphina walked out the door. She had no fear that he might strike. There were no windows to let moonlight in and even if there were, the wards she had painstakingly placed on this house would always keep her, along with those she served, safe from harm.
The man who had been a werewolf paused for several minutes. He had been left in an empty, windowless room with only the priestess to follow or a silver cage to return to. After some deep consideration, he made the sensible decision to follow her.
* * *
The second room, much like the first, was entirely carved of stone. There were no windows and the door out was marked with the symbol of The Creator. In the center of the room was a great stone tablet that the priestess was kneeling before; all illuminated by a single candle burning in front of the sacred monument.
“The second trial is Devotion. Please, come pray with me,” she said.
The man looked around the room suspiciously, as if trying to see if there was any hidden crack that he could somehow escape through. Seraphina waited patiently as he did. She was tired, but in no rush.
The reward was worth more than sleep.
After the man had determined that there were no cracks to escape through, and even if there were he lacked the ability to shrink down to fit in one, he sat cross-legged next to the priestess.
Seraphina didn’t mind this show of disrespect to The Creator. The man’s attitude towards the light would be corrected by sunrise.
“Tell me your name,” she said.
The man looked down for a long while, and Seraphina continued to wait patiently.
Eventually, he complied.
“Gregory. My name is Gregory Lux,” he said reluctantly.
They always complied eventually. Seraphina touched her holy symbol and gave silent thanks to The Creator.
“In his name, I greet you Gregory Lux. I am Priestess Seraphina,” she said.
“Seraphina? Like the first archangel? Is that what your parents named you?” he asked.
Seraphina smiled genuinely this time.
“No. My parents named me ‘Sarah’. When I came of age and took the vows, I took the name Seraphina as my name of devotion in a ritual not unlike the one we are about to perform.”
The man smiled a toothy grin that looked strange on a human. Perhaps he was more used to smiling as a werewolf.
“Sarah’s a better name than Seraphina,” he said, trying to provoke a reaction.
Seraphina’s genuine smile faded as she turned her attention to the obelisk before them.
“My parents would agree with you. Call me what you wish, I’m just being polite. Your name is more important than mine for what we’re about to do,” she said without even a hint of disdain in her voice.
“Why is my name so important?” Gregory asked.
Seraphina didn’t answer. She just looked to the great tablet. Gregory followed her gaze and was stunned to see the words carved upon the stone.
I, Gregory Lux, have sinned against The Creator.
Before he could react, Seraphina was behind him.
“Say the words,” she ordered with unquestionable authority.
Gregory didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. The words came as easily as breathing.
“I, Gregory Lux, have sinned against The Creator,” he said with a hollowness to his gravelly voice.
Seraphina relaxed her grip on her holy symbol. She had pushed him through the first step, the obelisk would take care of things from here.
I, Gregory Lux, must redeem myself.
“I… Gregory Lux…” he swallowed, his jaw stuttering tensely as he formed the words, “must redeem myself…”
He was resisting, but it didn’t matter. He was naked, without the power of his form or moonlight. Trapped in a holy place and bound by the will of The Creator.
His redemption was now inevitable.
Seraphina reached up to the stone wall and slid a false brick aside, revealing a mystery novel. By the light of her holy symbol, Seraphina began to read as the obelisk did its work.
“I… will do all in my power… to repay my debts… both to The Creator… and the Sancrest family…” Gregory said, with less resistance than before.
“That you will,” Seraphina said as she turned a page in her book, far more interested in the fate of the characters in the story than that of the man before her.
* * *
Three chapters later, the final words faded from the obelisk. Seraphina closed her book and placed it back into the wall. By her estimation, she would finish the book after two or three more redemptions. It was probably worth considering what she’d read next.
The priestess turned her thoughts away from the novel and back to the man before her, sitting oh so very still in front of the sacred monument.
“Tell me how you feel, Gregory,” she said gently. There was no need to use commanding authority on him anymore.
Tears swelled in the man’s eyes.
“I feel… sad… Like all the sins I’ve committed have been laid before me.”
The sinful man prostrated himself before the priestess.
“Priestess Seraphina, please… you’ve shown me the sin of my ways… I swear to never do the moon-devil’s bidding again. I swear it in The Creator’s name… but…”
“But…” she repeated.
“Is redemption really possible for someone like me? Someone who has committed such grave sins…”
Seraphina smiled her fake smile at him.
“My child, you are one of The Creator’s many gifts to the world. He made you with purpose and it is within your power to serve with purpose. You must simply give yourself to his power and he will guide you to redemption. All things are possible by The Creator’s will.”
Seraphina silently chastised herself. She was supposed to say ‘all things are possible through The Creator’s will’.
No matter. The werewolf wouldn’t notice the error and there were no other clergy around to judge her. Still, she should be above such simple mistakes at this point in her career.
Gregory smiled through his tears at her words.
“Thank you, Priestess Seraphina, I’m ready for the final trial.”
Seraphina nodded and wordlessly opened the door bearing The Creator’s mark.
* * *
“W-What is this?” Gregory asked as he saw what was in the third room.
The girl from the alley stood before them, a knife in her hand.
“The final trial is Acceptance, for each person, the trial is different. For you, The Creator has seen fit to bring your last victim before you.”
Seraphina knew it was a lie. She had no idea where the girl really was. The woman standing in this room was merely another servant of the Sancrest family enshrined in glamour.
But to Gregory, it was his final sin before him.
“Do you accept The Creator’s grace?” Seraphina asked.
“I… I do,” he said, hesitating not due to a lack of faith, but at the realization that the knife pointed towards him was made of silver.
“Kneel before her and The Creator,” Seraphina commanded.
“B-but…”
Resistance? At this stage? How interesting, Seraphina thought to herself.
“Kneel,” she said while touching her holy symbol. Gregory fell to his knees.
“You must accept that, like me, like her, you are just as vulnerable as the rest of us. While fangs may rend her flesh, silver will rend yours. If you truly trust in The Creator’s power, you will offer your neck to her. Give yourself to his power. Leave your fate in his hands.”
Tears fell from Gregory’s eyes.
“I… trust in The Creator’s power… By his will, I will either die here or live to serve him.” His eyes flashed with sudden realization.
“Either way, I am saved by his will.”
Gregory lifted his head, and offered his neck to the woman he had nearly killed.
Seraphina smiled her genuine smile.
Another redemption in the books, and another thousand gold in my coffers.
She stuck out her hand above him.
“By giving yourself over to The Creator’s will, you have proven you are indeed worthy of redemption. Rise, Gregory Lux, and accept your new life as his servant with the Sancrest estate.”
The silver knife fell to the floor and the glamour fell off the woman standing before them.
“C-Caterina? Is that really you?” Gregory asked.
“It is me, dear sweet Gregory. Priestess Seraphina saved me on the last full moon and asked that I participate in your redemption.”
“I thought you died! My packmate!” Gregory embraced the woman before him.
Seraphina was surprised to discover the two knew each other. She often used whoever she redeemed last in the Acceptance trial. It worked well when redemptions failed. She liked to keep her hands clean and no one was as zealously ready to kill as a fresh convert.
“Caterina… The Creator truly does favor me. His will has brought us together again!”
Seraphina made her way upstairs as the two werewolves hugged and cried together. Were they lovers? Siblings? Or simply friends within the pack? Seraphina didn’t care. She was tired and ready to sleep. She’d explain Gregory’s new life to him after sunup.
As she slipped into her bed, she absentmindedly wondered if their reunion was simply coincidence or if it truly was The Creator’s will.
She didn’t lose any sleep over the mystery.
* * *
By dinner-time on the day that he was redeemed, Gregory Lux was serving wine to Lord and Lady Sancrest along with the only person they regularly dined with.
“Tell me, Seraphina,” Rowena Sancrest said, “Did this werewolf present much of a challenge?”
Seraphina took a sip of her wine. A little dryer than she preferred, but she couldn’t complain about the quality.
“No,” she said, swirling her glass in an attempt to get the wine to open up a little, “I had already dealt with one of his pack. It was simple to make the necessary adjustments to the ritual.”
“Good,” Elric Sancrest said without looking up from his meal. He motioned with his hand and Gregory promptly served him a second helping of lamb. If the content of the conversation bothered the former werewolf, he didn’t show it.
“He makes a fine servant, and I’m sure a great defender to our holy estate. I’m curious Seraphina, do you have any leads on any other threats to our fair city?”
Threats? Seraphina thought to herself. Between the holy wards and indentured servants protecting this place, I’m not sure anything could be considered a threat at this point.
“None for now, fortunately,” Seraphina said with almost imperceptible distaste. “Unless our newest guest has heard anything?”
Gregory’s eyes lit up as he realized he was being addressed.
“Well, servant?” Lord Sancrest prompted, “Have you heard of any unholy threats to our fair city?”
Gregory looked down at the floor instead of meeting his lord’s gaze. He instinctively knew better than to look at the noble as an equal. Still, he was bidden to answer the question.
“There is one, Lord Sancrest. I’ve heard tale of a travelling vampire–Mara, they call her.” He was trembling as he spoke, as if the thought of the vampire was innately frightening to him.
Seraphina was surprised. She’d never heard of a werewolf that feared a vampire. For Gregory to be acting like this…
“Tell me about this vampire,” Seraphina said before Lady Sancrest interrupted.
“Why? You’ve told me many times yourself, a vampire is no threat unless invited in. I don’t think it’s worth paying you to–”
This time, Lord Sancrest interrupted.
“Now, now, Rowena, even if we might avoid the threat by simply inviting no guests, the renown from saving the common folk from a devious vampire would be worth more than we’d pay Seraphina. Besides… maybe I’d like to be served wine by a vampiress,” he said with a smile that lacked any sense of altruism.
Rowena didn’t speak. Didn’t even seem to agree. But she nodded.
On cue, Seraphina turned back to Gregory. “So tell me about this Mara.”
* * *
It hadn’t been difficult to track the vampire. A quick investigation at the hospital showed a number of people battling anemia. All from the poor, southern end of the city. The pattern was so clear, it was as if the vampire wanted to be discovered.
Seraphina couldn’t help considering that possibility. Especially when the people had been drained, but not killed or turned. They all told the same story: walking home from the tavern district, a mysterious woman either beckoned or called for help from the side alleyway behind the local well.
Seraphina waited for night, and made her way to the alley.
As expected, she found the vampire waiting for her.
Seraphina didn’t waste any time.
“Be still,” She invoked while touching her holy symbol. A chime of thunder rang out and chains of light shot towards the vampire.
When faced with The Creator’s blinding light, the woman closed her eyes and smiled.
The holy chains wrapped around her legs, her arms, her neck. Every part of her was bound, just as the werewolf had been the night before.
Her smile never faded.
“I’ve never actually seen the holy chains before. As I understand it, only the pure may hope to escape?” she said with frightening casualness.
Seraphina didn’t take the bait.
“Be Silent.”
The chains about the monster’s head flattened and curved into a mask that completely obscured her face. Neither luring gaze nor poison words would escape this binding. Seraphina gave herself a moment to breathe.
She wouldn’t get a moment.
The chains began to slip, and then fall as the enemy they bound silently vanished. The vampire’s body had dissolved into something else. Something hidden even from The Creator’s light. And that something slipped through the chain links as easily as smoke.
It should have been impossible.
Seraphina watched as one by one, the chains of light collapsed to the ground until finally, the binding mask lay atop. Only when the holy binding lay uselessly on the ground, did she become aware of the bats now swarming the alley.
“May his light shield me,” she said without missing a beat. The chains that lay on the ground coiled up like snakes and engulfed Seraphina. With blinding light, they reforged themselves into a set of armor, radiant as the sun.
The bats hesitated before this light, but didn’t flee.
She doesn’t want to escape. She wants to fight.
She thinks she can win.
That last thought troubled Seraphina. Though vampires always tended to be among the more confident of her prey, she had never encountered one that seemed fearless.
She certainly never met one that could escape The Creator’s chains.
With the threat of the chains gone, the swarm collected and reformed into the vampire, who reached into her bodice and drew a knife made of a jet-black metal. The dark blade seemed to drink in the dim light of the alley around them, leaving it darker than Seraphina had first found it.
As Seraphina beheld the blade, she realized she would have to worry about how the vampire escaped the chains some other time.
No, she could almost hear her old weapon-master speaking in her ear.
To ignore what is different is to ignore the threat. Be conscious of everything. Figure her out. Understand her. A vampire cannot be defeated through strength alone.
Seraphina could imagine Talia Venn’s voice just as clearly as if she was still learning at The Seminary. It was that woman’s teachings above all others that let Seraphina live her current life.
Seraphina was no fool. She would heed the weapon-master’s words.
The vampire drew the knife along her tongue.
“Let’s continue our waltz, shall we?”
Seraphina crossed her arms in defense as her opponent lunged forward. The vampire was faster. Seraphina knew better than to try to dodge.
Fortunately, she was protected by The Creator. She crossed her arms in defense and blocked the knife.
Though the knife was able to pierce her armor, it did not fully penetrate. It was wedged into Seraphina’s gauntlet. It would not be easy to push it through nor to withdraw it. This time, it was the vampire’s turn to be surprised.
Hold, Seraphina silently commanded within herself.
She felt the armor reforge around her arms; the plating on her legs weakening to help reinforce her crossblock. The vampire pulled viciously on the blade, but it was too late.
The armor had reforged around the knife. It was now completely locked into place and lost to the vampire. The woman scowled and released her grip on it before taking a few steps back.
Seraphina lowered her arms and was surprised to feel her left arm sluggish. It hurt. It reminded her of how her whole body felt the morning after her first training session at The Seminary.
Muscle fatigue. As if coping with a stress they weren’t used to.
Why?
She looked at her bracer and saw the black knife embedded in it. Vein-like tendrils of darkness were reaching out from the blade. Spreading like ink through water all across her left arm; corrupting the armor of The Creator.
Snuffing out his light.
“Even your god’s light yields before true darkness, priestess.”
The soreness quickly evolved into a stabbing pain as the weakened armor allowed the blade to penetrate deeper. Seraphina cried out in pain and for the briefest moment, her faith faltered.
In that moment of weakness, her armor collapsed, unravelling in a cascade of dull silver links. Her original silver chain now lay at her feet. No longer armor. No longer even glowing. Her holy instrument had reverted to its barest form.
And the vampire was just smiling, watching to see what Seraphina would do next.
Seraphina ripped the knife from her arm. For an instant, she considered turning it against the vampire, but then thought better of it.
While some creatures may only be injured by their own essence, you should never wield an unholy object unless you understand all of its properties, Talia’s lessons still echoed in Seraphina’s mind.
She threw the blade to the ground where it stuck out at an angle. She picked up the silver chain. The Creator’s light was gone and it would take hours of prayer to be forgiven for her lapse of faith. Until then, the chain was no better than any other silver chain.
Fortunately, the chain was still silver, and her friend Trevor had taught her how to fight with a whip. Seraphina coiled the chain in her left and held the slack in her right. It felt heavy in her weakened arm, but her left only needed to bear the weight; any attack would come from her right. The vampire took a step forward and Seraphina began swinging the chain in a circle.
She could hear the sound of it whipping through the air at incredible speed. A solid chain at this speed could hurt any mortal creature. A silver chain swung at this speed could rend even a vampire’s flesh from bone.
The vampire’s grin only widened. Like a dancer ready for her partner to finally take the lead.
Seraphina was fine with that.
She loosened her grip with her right hand and let the centripetal force widen the arc of her swinging chain. She held her arm over her head and the chain now swung with a radius of nearly two meters.
There were gaps in the swing as it circled behind her each time. She made sure it was just fast enough that the vampire wouldn’t have enough time to take advantage of the opening.
The vampire simply watched. Grin widening like a child at the circus.
This wasn’t supposed to be fun.
Seraphina decided there and then that the vampire wasn’t worth redemption. She would kill the creature in The Creator’s name. She felt the chain arc around behind her, and just as it started to swing forward she released her grip with her right hand and lunged forward.
The chain shot forward along with her like a bolt from a crossbow.
The vampire ducked down, but she was too slow. The chain just barely grazed her temple and Seraphina was relieved to see the vampire’s crimson blood painting her face.
She yanked back hard, twisting her wrist. The chain snapped around like a living thing, smacking across the vampire's opposite temple with a satisfying thud.
Seraphina gave the chain another tug as she pulled it back. She confidently caught the bloody chain and began swinging it again. Ready to strike the vampire for the third time.
The vampire’s grin was gone now. She wiped the blood from her face with the palm of her hand before pulling her hand to her lips and tasting her own blood.
The sight sickened Seraphina. She was going to kill this creature now. She widened the arc of her swing again.
She wouldn’t strike in the same way twice. The vampire would be too smart for that. Instead, she’d keep the chain circling this time. She’d lunge as a feint, never releasing the chain. When the vampire tried to dodge, Seraphina would hold the chain tight and close the distance.
If she caught the vampire off-guard, she might get close enough to strangle her with the silver chain.
The vampire looked down at the blade still embedded in the ground; clearly wishing she still had her weapon.
Seraphina lunged forward, ready to put her plan into action and put the vampire down forever.
Instead, something grabbed her leg and she fell. The chain struck the ground and rebounded away. Her weakened left arm couldn’t maintain the grip on the chain and it became lost to her.
Then she hit the ground.
The world went black for a split second as pain erupted from her forehead. She had fallen face first and the hard dirt of the alley floor crashed painfully into her nose. When her vision returned, Seraphina looked back at her leg to see what had grabbed her.
From the black knife in the ground, black tendrils were wrapped around her leg.
She cursed at her own foolish mistake. She should have thrown the knife somewhere far away instead of leaving it on the battlefield.
Her thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Slow, deliberate steps like a metronome counting out the last beats of her swan song.
Am I… a true devotee of The Creator… going to die?
She shouldn’t have let herself think that. To doubt was to lose The Creator’s favor and she needed him more than ever right now.
“Look at me,” the vampire said. Something about the way she said it was so compelling. So seductive. In the same way that her faith had so briefly faltered, Seraphina ever so briefly let herself wonder why the vampire wanted to look at her. She felt the poison words seep into her mind. Hooking her.
She couldn’t help but look.
The vampire’s eyes had become black orbs of ink so much like the tendrils that extended from the knife. An infinite void of darkness that Seraphina couldn’t look away from any more than she could resist the pull of gravity.
Seraphina accepted her fate, and let herself fall into those dark orbs.
She wanted to make one final prayer to The Creator to save her, but for some reason, couldn’t find the right words.
* * *
Vampires do one of two things with their prey, Seraphina could remember Instructor Seraph telling her. They make use of them, or kill them.
Seraphina was in pain, but she was alive. She felt the cold wind against her tattered clothes. She felt the pain of cuts all over her body. Warm blood was dripping off her crumpled form.
But she was alive… Why? The vampire would be unable to turn her, so why keep her alive?
She turned her focus to her neck to be sure. Somehow, her neck was the only part that didn’t hurt…
Seraphina suddenly realized that despite whatever wounds the vampire gave her post-fight, she hadn’t been bitten. The vampire hadn’t even attempted to turn her. Maybe she knew better. Maybe she knew it couldn’t be done.
Seraphina, like all priestesses of The Creator, had maintained her purity. She was a true virgin that could not be corrupted by agents of darkness. She could not become werewolf or vampire by bite, nor could she become undead through curse.
So then why was she still alive?
Seraphina tried to lift her arms, tried to move her fingers, tried to even open her eyes…
She could do nothing but lay limply in the strong, almost motherly arms that carried her effortlessly. The scent of blood and roses drifted from the cold breasts that were pressed against her face. She was so tired… so drained… she could barely make out the shouting voices around her… People were yelling… but the vampire… was crying…
“I don’t know what happened! I just found her this way!”
“Don’t open the gate, Johannes! That woman may very well be the vampire!”
“But my lady! The Priestess Seraphina!”
“If the vampire was strong enough to hurt her this way, we can’t risk letting her in!”
Good… Don’t let her in…
Seraphina may have fallen, but that didn’t mean the good people of Sancrest Manor had to suffer. She thought of all the kind people who worked there… Cooks and maids and gardeners. All good people just trying to earn an honest living… no different from her… Even the redeemed monsters deserved a chance…
“My Lady,” Gregory’s unmistakably gravelly voice chimed in. “I may have a solution…”
Good… protect them…
“Speak then, werewolf,” Rowena commanded.
“Before I was turned… when I was a child, my older sister was bitten by a vampire, but she didn’t turn, wasn’t even enthralled. Do you know why?”
What is he getting at? Seraphina wondered while struggling to stay conscious.
“I assume your sister was still a virgin…” Rowena responded.
“Yes, no virgin may be turned, and my nose…” Seraphina heard Gregory sniffing, “my nose can smell each of the… numerous men you’ve laid with. The smell of their seed–their stink–it never fades.”
No… no… you fool…
“I smell no man on this one. She is completely untouched by men; same as our dear priestess. She can’t possibly be a vampire.”
Did they really not know? Were they so blind to not consider it?
Seraphina could feel the relief in her Lady’s voice.
“Thank you, Gregory. Let them in! Attend to Priestess Seraphina!”
Seraphina tried to yell as she heard the clank of the opening gate. Tried to scream, to explain the flaw in the logic.
But she still couldn’t open her eyes, let alone her mouth. In fact she could barely… stay… awake…
Just before she faded back into unconsciousness, she heard the gate close behind them.
The vampire had gotten in.
The smell of blood and roses was overwhelming.
* * *
Seraphina dipped in and out of consciousness as she was brought inside. She remembered the estate doctor sewing up her cuts. She remembered one of the maids taking off her tattered, bloody robes and replacing them with a fresh set of vestments. She remembered walking…
She couldn’t speak but she could somehow walk. A cold, delicate hand held hers and gave her just enough strength to move forward. Step after mechanical step. Down into the basement. Down into the inky voids of the vampire’s eyes. It was one in the same.
Was she weak from blood loss? The vampire’s spell? She couldn’t think about it hard enough to figure out. She knew she had to tell someone what had happened, but she just couldn’t speak. All she could do was take one step after another down the stairs into the basement. Through one room after another… until finally, she reached that familiar place…
She fell to her knees and crawled into the silver cage.
She heard it close and lock behind her followed by the rhythmic tapping of shoes as the vampire walked away.
Seraphina collapsed, and fell into a long, dreamless sleep.
* * *
Seraphina was in pain. Her stomach hurt from hunger. Her arm hurt from the black dagger. And the cuts all over her body hurt so much. As she rolled over on the stone floor, she felt her skin pulling against her stitches, the doctor’s thread painfully held her wounds closed.
Her right hand slowly reached up to her neck and felt her one lifeline.
The Creator’s Holy Symbol was still there. Still bound around her neck. Only those who believed could wear it. And for those true believers, it could never be removed.
She felt The Creator’s warmth as she spoke the prayer she hadn’t said since her time in The Seminary.
“Mighty Creator above, please heal my wounds so that I may return to the world and carry out your purpose.”
Like soothing water over a burn, Seraphina felt relief wash over her as all her wounds closed and a sense of vitality returned to her body.
She was still exhausted. The pain had merely woken her up. Now that it was gone, drowsiness began to overtake her again.
If only there was a prayer for…
She couldn’t even finish her thought before sleep overtook her.
* * *
The smell of lamb, warm, roasted, and dripping with fat cut through the haze of the sleeping priestess. She tried and, for what felt like the first time in days, was able to open her eyes. The dim torchlight of the basement room was blinding to her now-sensitive eyes.
Seraphina looked down at her chest and focused on the outline of her holy symbol, while slowly allowing more and more light to fill her vision.
When she had finally adjusted, she looked up and saw Gregory holding out the tray of meat for her.
“You must be hungry, priestess,” he said in that ever-gravelly voice of his.
Seraphina felt the void in her stomach. How long had it been? The smell of lamb was overwhelming. A small part of her screamed at her to jam her arms through the bars and grab it. To devour it with her bare hands. It didn’t matter if the lamb was freshly-cooked, she’d let her hands burn. She’d let her throat burn. She could heal them later. She had to eat! She had to–
Seraphina took a deep breath.
“I am a vessel of The Creator. By his will I am sustained. By my will, I can resist temptation. I am whole because I am his.”
She felt the hunger in her belly fade to the background. It was of course still present. She was human and would die without food, but she didn’t need to let that control her.
She wouldn’t let anything control her.
She looked back to Gregory.
“She’ll let you eat, priestess. You don’t have to do anything. She likes you, you know. She wants you to be healthy,” he said in a detached way. Almost as if he was reciting a story to a child for the hundredth time. He was both present and not at the same time.
He slid the food through the bars. The smell was closer now. Seraphina’s hunger screamed at her to rip into it. She was so desperately hungry.
Seraphina touched her holy symbol.
“By The Creator’s will, may this food bring me nourishment and not harm. May any poison, intended or otherwise, be purged from this meal.”
She expected to watch the food glow, but instead, nothing happened. There were only two possibilities: the food wasn’t poisoned, or The Creator had abandoned her.
She trusted The Creator. She reached down and took a bite.
It was the best thing she had ever eaten.
“Enjoy your meal,” Gregory said, “I’ll be back when you’re done.”
* * *
Gregory returned ten minutes later with a glass of water and a wet rag Seraphina could use to clean herself up.
Finally, she was rested, healed, and fed. But still in the cage with the werewolf looking down on her.
“Why are you doing this, Gregory? You swore to serve the Sancrest family. How are you even able to act against them?”
“I’m not,” Gregory said without hesitation, “They have sworn their allegiance to Lady Mara. Thus I and all the other servants of the manor serve her as well.”
Gregory leaned down to meet Seraphina’s gaze.
His eyes were now black inky voids, just like Mara’s had been.
“The first trial,” he said, inky voids somehow seemingly focused on Seraphina, “is that of purity.”
He reached through the bars and lightly caressed her vestments.
“These clothes hide what The Creator made. You are so much more than what these mark you as. You must shed them. Reveal your pure form and I shall unlock the cage.”
Gregory, the Sancrests, the whole estate belonged to the vampire. Seraphina knew all too well how trapped she was in this silver cage. And yet… if she had any chance…
“I will not remove my holy symbol,” she said defiantly.
“I do not ask you to. Merely reveal the purity of your form and I will release you.”
Seraphina took a deep breath.
“I am a servant of The Creator. By his will, I can endure anything, even this.”
She had been fourteen when she had been taught how to put the vestments on. That was half her life ago…
No one had seen her dress or undress herself since.
Seraphina found the tie under her collar and pulled at the string. She felt the collar loosen and the entire garment with it. She shrugged her shoulders, and her vestments fell to the stone floor. Leaving her in only the shift and breeches she wore underneath.
She didn’t wait to be told. She understood the ritual. She doffed everything but her necklace and stood in her purest form before the werewolf.
The air was cold against her skin.
All on its own, the door swung open.
Without gawking or staring or even a word. Gregory turned around and walked out the door.
Seraphina, naked and more vulnerable than she’d ever been, had no choice but to follow.
* * *
Seraphina walked into the second room and saw the great stone tablet marked by The Creator.
No… It wasn’t The Creator’s mark. It was close, but slightly different. A single accent mark had been removed.
That mark had represented order. Without it, the symbol meant something else entirely. Seraphina remembered seeing it in her studies. The symbol without the mark of order represented an ancient evil that was thought to have long-ago left the world.
The ancient blood-devil. The one that birthed all others.
The ancient blood-devil. The one that birthed all others.
Saraphina did not dare to even think her name.
“The second trial is Devotion. Please, come pray with me,” Gregory said as he knelt before the obelisk.
Seraphina looked at the sealed door that led out of the second chamber. She had done this so many times. She knew there was no other way out.
“No,” she said anyway. “I will not pray to a devil.”
Gregory stood up and walked to her.
She only now noticed that his clothes barely hung off his body. He had been a powerful, stocky man even as a human. But now…
Two almost-coin-sized holes marred his neck. He had been drained.
“I have been instructed by my Lady to take you through the trials. If you refuse, I will not make you, but there is no other food in here. I will starve before you do and if I die, no one will be able to take you through the trials.”
Seraphina didn’t doubt him for a second. Without a guide, she would be trapped down here forever. She would die too, and no one would stop the vampire.
Her hand reflexively touched her holy symbol. Only this time, it grazed her naked breast as it did.
“I am a vessel of The Creator. His will is mine own. I walk the path he sets before me and will not be diverted. I am his Priestess Seraphina.”
She knelt before the stone and waited for the words to appear. The granite floor was cold against her knees.
I, Sarah Sanford, have sinned against Xenthos.
She held her holy symbol for strength, and spoke the only words that could free her.
“I, Sarah Sanford, have sinned against Xenthos.”
The blood-devil’s name was like poison on her lips. She could almost taste bile as she said it.
I carry in me the will of The Creator…
I, Sarah Sanford, must redeem myself.
“I, Sarah Sanford, must redeem myself.”
By his will, I am incorruptible…
She must resist. She had to resist. She could do this. She could endure it. She knew how the trial worked. Once she recited the words, it was only a matter of time before the door opened.
I, Sarah Sanford, embody greed.
What?
That wasn’t part of the ritual. She continued to stare up at Xenthos’s mark. Had Mara or the blood-devil herself somehow changed The Creator’s obelisk to this degree?
She heard the sound of a page flipping but couldn’t turn her head to look. Her gaze was locked on the stone. The words were inescapable.
We’ll both starve if I don’t say it…
“I… Sarah Sanford… embody greed…”
I, Sarah Sanford, am a false priestess.
“I… Sarah Sanford… am a false priestess…”
It didn’t take long to fall into the pattern. She accepted what was happening. She spoke any words shown to her no matter how… painful it was.
“I… will do all in my power… to repay my debts… both to Xenthos... and the Lady Mara who set me on this… righteous path…”
She didn’t care what she had to say. She would get through this…
She would win…
It didn’t matter that she could feel the words carving themselves into her mind…
She had to win.
* * *
“Tell me how you feel, Sarah.”
It didn’t bother her that he used a name she gave up ten years ago. There was so much else now. So much pain that had been inflicted upon her. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t remember most of the second trial.
She could only guess at what ideas had been carved into her mind.
She touched her holy symbol, and its warmth felt somehow less than it had before.
“Cold…” was all she could say.
Gregory closed the book, having apparently finished reading it.
Seraphina told herself that he must simply be a faster reader than her.
She deliberately didn’t think about the fact that she was a studied priestess who certainly spent much more time reading than a werewolf. Surely the anemic… peasant… was a faster reader than her…
Otherwise, what’s the alternative?
Gregory held his hand above her.
“My child, you have been chosen to receive one of Xenthos’s many gifts to the world. She offers you pleasure and it is within your power to serve with pleasure. You must simply give yourself to her power and she will guide you to divine corruption. The impossible is possible through Xenthos’s will.”
Seraphina didn’t deign that with a response. She simply closed her eyes and said, “I am ready for the final trial.”
Gregory smiled and opened the final door.
Seraphina imagined it still bore The Creator’s mark.
* * *
It was no surprise that Caterina, Gregory’s packmate, was waiting for them in the final room. The girl looked gaunt and sickly, much like Gregory did. Unlike Gregory, her oversized clothes weren’t draped over her.
Instead, she was naked.
“W-What is this?” Seraphina asked as she entered the third room.
“The final trial is Acceptance, for each person, the trial is different. For you, Xenthos has seen fit to have you face the gift you never accepted.”
Seraphina’s bare skin felt so cold against the cool basement air.
“As a priestess, is it not your responsibility to accept all that The Creator gives you? Yet you have denied the single most important thing he gave us. You deny the pleasure of your own body. Even Xenthos thanks The Creator for the procreative ritual.”
“Sex is… a holy gift… Just not one… I can indulge…”
Gregory began to circle her, a wolf circling his prey.
“Listen to yourself, Sarah. This is the great contradiction The Creator gives. Have you never questioned it? Have you never questioned why The Creator would grant such a gift to all but his most devoted followers?”
Seraphina had heard this line of reasoning before. It had been used by ancient cults to draw believers away from The Creator…
She had been taught to resist it… but she was so tired now… She’d resisted the obelisk for so long…
And what Gregory was saying did make sense…
“Sex is not something to be ashamed of, Sarah. It is The Creator's greatest gift. It is a mortal's chance to feel the light of The Creator. Both in the joy of the act and even the creation of new life it brings. Xenthos only wants you to accept that gift.”
Gregory looked over at his packmate.
“You will spread your legs and allow Caterina to give you an orgasm. Alternatively, if you prefer, you may bring her to orgasm. Regardless, the door is sealed from opening unless someone in this room has an orgasm.”
Seraphina breathed a sigh of relief.
Finally… An opening to exploit.
She touched her holy symbol and caught both werewolves in her gaze.
“Mate,” she commanded.
In an instant Gregory was on top of Caterina. Seraphina turned away as one werewolf mounted another and began thrusting violently. Caterina cried out in what Seraphina first assumed was pain, but quickly realized was pleasure.
Seraphina tried her best not to think about what she had just done. About how she had forced two of The Creator’s children to have sex when they didn’t desire to. About how she had been able to twist The Creator’s power to make them do it.
She knew they were packmates. She tried not to think about how she never bothered to learn if that meant they were lovers or siblings.
All she could do was wait out the event.
She tried to focus on The Creator, but her prayers were drowned out by Caterina’s moans.
* * *
Gregory and Caterina laid satisfied in a puddle of their own juices as the door finally opened.
She had done it. She had survived the trials and was back in the manor proper. She briefly considered fleeing. Running out the door and through the gate. There was a Church of The Creator in the lower city. She might rally other priests and priestesses. Together they might drive the vampire back…
I am a false priestess… They would never accept me… Naked and corrupted… I have sinned against The Creator… They wouldn’t want me…
The words burned through her mind and she saw them carved into the obelisk as well as in her own mind.
She could rationalize this. She was weak…
She was pathetic.
She was weak… she had already lost to Mara…
Lady Mara…
She was tired from the hours of chanting…
Of learning truth…
“Truth…” she spoke out loud.
There’s only one way to redeem myself…
This was the only way. She had to confront Mara alone…
It’s the only way…
It was the only way.
The contradiction didn’t bother her. She was too tired to think about it. Instead, she walked up to the Sancrest master bedroom and prepared to face Lady Mara one final time.
She didn’t even question how she knew Lady Mara would be there…
* * *
Step by mechanical step, Seraphina walked up the stairs to the master bedroom. As she made her way through the manor, she passed by dozens of guards, maids, and other servants. Every one of them had the same pale, sickly look as Gregory and Caternia. Every one of them seemed to barely have the strength to do their duty.
But they all did. The maids cleaned. The cook cooked. The florist had covered the manor in roses.
Seraphina tried not to think about the anemic gardeners working in the hot summer sun.
Finally, she found herself at the door to the master bedroom. She could hear soft moans coming from inside.
It… ignited something in her… something she hadn’t felt since The Seminary had trained it out of her.
It felt so much like how the warmth of The Creator would radiate from her holy symbol. Except this time, it came from between her legs.
Seraphina felt her nipples harden as she opened the door.
And there she was. Lady Mara, the vampiress. Lounging on the Sancrest bed with her legs spread. Lady Rowena knelt between them. Seraphina could only imagine what she was doing.
She knew she was weak. She knew she had lost. Mara’s eyes were turning black. Soon they’d become a void that Seraphina would never escape.
She’d known all along as she walked here. She refused to admit it, but some part of her had actually been looking forward to what was about to happen…
But she had to at least have this one last thing settled.
“You’re not a virgin… You’ve never been with a man… but you’re no virgin…”
Mara smiled, reached down, and shoved Rowena’s face deeper into her crotch.
“You know as well as I do, technical purity is just as good as the real thing when it comes to getting what you want…” she said, all the while stifling her moans.
Something about what she said triggered something in Seraphina. One last burst of willpower. One last light from The Creator emboldened her against the darkness.
“Don’t you dare call yourself pure! You’re a monster! An agent of the blood-devil!”
She mustered her strength. And said one final prayer to The Creator.
“Please… Creator above… Grant me the power… to defeat this wickedness…”
Rowena Sancrest stopped licking Lady Mara as Seraphina recited her prayer.
“I am… your vessel… You will… is carried out… through me…”
Rowena turned around and Seraphina saw the black voids where her eyes had once been. Mara’s juices were dripping down her face.
“The light of creation burns within my heart… through my faith in him… anything…”
“Come on, Sarah…” Rowena said dreamily. “Don’t you at least want to know what it’s like?”
“Through my faith.. anything is…”
Seraphina tried to finish the prayer. To prove she was who the creator meant her to be.
A champion of the people…
I embody greed.
A guide for the faithless…
I am a false priestess.
Something… more than human…
Rowena stared blankly at Seraphina with those terrible black eyes. A smile on her face and slickness running down her thighs. Seraphina had never seen Lady Sancrest , or anyone else for that matter, look so happy.
She couldn’t help but wonder what it must feel like.
A flicker of hesitation. A moment of doubt. That’s all it took to break the prayer. Seraphina imagined seeing through eyes that had been turned so beautifully black just like Gregory and Rowena’s. She imagined what it must be like to be so sure of something… To truly believe in the cause of the entity you worship…
To serve without doubt…
To be allowed the pleasures of her own body…
She could see it in her mind’s eye. Herself instead of Lady Mara, lounging on the bed while Rowena lovingly showed her the joy of a woman’s tongue.
Her pussy clenched at the thought.
Seraphina heard a crack and looked down to see part of her holy symbol had broken. The accent line that represented order had fallen off. What remained glowed red-hot against her skin as if struggling to deny its new purpose…
But the truth couldn’t be denied. Her holy symbol had become the mark of Xenthos, The Corrupt Divine and Mother of Darkness.
“This can’t happen… I’m supposed… to be… pure…”
Seraphina remembered Gregory and Caterina. What she’d made them do…
Mara smiled. "You can try to cling to purity, but that's not really you is it? You don't act charitably. You don't serve the poor. You serve the richest in exchange for comfort. That's what's important to you isn't it? Your own comfort.”
“Accept it. The yoke of The Creator has fallen and you have but one choice to make. Let everything else fade away and give in to me…”
Mara’s fangs glistened as she smiled.
“Give in to me, Sarah Sanford.”
Sarah fell to her knees. She could no longer resist. She could no longer lie to herself. She let herself fall into Mara’s inky gaze. She was no longer The Creator’s vessel. She was as weak as all the other nobles and commoners in this house. None of them could resist. How could she?
The blackness from Mara’s eyes seemed to fill the room. Drowning out everything but the two of them. There was nothing here to save her. Neither holy relics nor good friends. Everything was gone and she was powerless before the darkness.
But for some reason, Sarah was unafraid.
“Feel how comfortable it is to slip into my gaze. Imagine the life I could give you. You're oh so very special. I'd let you drink from my neck you know. You could be like me. You could have everything you ever wanted… You’d be oh so comfortable in this new life…"
Sarah stumbled forward, step by mechanical step. Color drained from her vision as she continued to stare into Mara’s beautiful eyes. She knew now that the black void she gazed into was Lady Xenthos herself. That utter darkness that would corrupt the world with pleasure. Mara was a puppet of the Dark Mother and soon Sarah would be too. Her symbol glowed red hot against her breasts but didn’t burn. She had nothing to fear as long as she embraced her new goddess.
Sarah knelt before Mara, and offered her neck. Perhaps Mara would honor her word and let Sarah drink as well. Perhaps she would drain Sarah completely.
It didn’t matter. Sarah Sanford was merely a vessel for Xenthos’s will.
But no piercing bite came. No shooting pain in her neck as her very life was drained from her. Instead, a single finger under her chin pulled her gaze back to Mara, whose eyes had reverted back to that lovely shade of red Sarah first saw in the alley.
“Not yet, love. If we’re to turn you, you’ll need to learn the pleasures of the flesh first.”
Sarah looked in Mara’s beautiful eyes as that face leaned closer and closer. When she was only inches away, Mara stopped.
Sarah couldn’t wait. She leaned forward and for the first time in her life, felt another’s lips against her own.
She never imagined anything could feel so right.
Mara’s tongue slipped into her mouth and Sarah responded in kind, carefully avoiding Mara’s fangs though occasionally lightly tapping them with her tongue.
They were sharper than she expected. She could just barely taste iron in her mouth. Mara pulled away from the kiss.
“No no no… you cannot tease me like that. Not before I’ve gotten to taste you properly. Rowena,” Mara commanded and the beautiful noblewoman bowed her head in deference, “Why don’t you pleasure our newest convert with that lovely tongue of yours?”
“Yes, my Lady,” Rowena said as she leaned in between Sarah’s legs.
It honestly tickled at first and Sarah couldn’t help but flinch away from Rowena’s tongue. Mara slithered her body around Sarah’s and her hands crept upward, cupping the virgin priestess’s breasts.
“It’s okay… she won’t bite… just relax and enjoy it…” Mara said oh so seductively in between kissing up Sarah’s neck. Sarah couldn’t help but think about the black void of Mara’s eyes as she was told to relax.
She felt herself melting. The tongue between her legs no longer tickled. It felt so nice and slippery as it moved and pressed in just the right way; making Sarah feel things she never believed were possible.
“I can’t believe… I waited so long… to feel this way…”
Rowena’s tongue was heavenly. It flicked and pressed against all of Sarah’s most sensitive spots in just the right way. Mara’s fingers were pinching her nipples while her mouth was nibbling on Sarah’s earlobe.
Sarah could still see the inky void of Mara’s gaze in her mind’s eye. Her neck felt so… itchy? That was the only way she could describe it. It felt like she needed something sharp to drag along her neck to make this uncomfortable feeling go away.
Sarah smiled as she understood what she was yearning for. She knew it wasn’t time yet, but she knew it would feel even better than Rowena’s tongue when it finally happened.
That warmth, that felt so much like The Creator’s light, was building inside her. She didn’t understand it. She couldn’t do anything to hold it back. It just grew and grew and Rowena licked and Mara kept flicking her nipples and nibbling her ear,
By Xenthos, she wanted to feel Mara’s fangs in her neck.
But that warmth was still growing. It grew larger and larger until it began to overwhelm her. Her first orgasm started to crest and for the first time, she truly understood the joy of sex.
And in between her moans, she finally started to beg.
“Please… Mara… Please! Bite me! Drain me! Leave nothing left! I don’t care, I NEED it!”
Sweet relief as a piercing sensation drove the itch away from her neck. She felt Mara’s lips meet her neck in a heavenly kiss and as the orgasm faded, she felt the blood begin to drain from her.
Being fed on felt even better than the orgasm. If it felt this good, it was no wonder the whole manor had given in.
Light faded from the world and Sarah’s eyes began to close.
I told her… she could take everything… If she does… I… won’t… mind…
Sarah fell from Mara’s arms, completely drained. She was weak. So much weaker than she had been in the cage. So much weaker than she had been before the obelisk.
She could barely see. She felt so cold… Was she really… going… to…
Just when the cold darkness had completely overtaken her, something red bloomed in the middle of her vision.
Blood? Blood.
Crimson, iron-smelling blood. Mara’s blood.
Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
She licked her lips.
Seraphina lunged forward and kissed Mara’s neck. She formed a seal and sucked; drawing out the life-blood Mara had been kind enough to offer her.
Her first drink was like swallowing fire and roses. Strength flooded back like a dam breaking. Her muscles tightened, her pussy clenched, her nipples were peaking so hard they ached. She moaned into Mara's neck, greedy, already addicted.
Her first drink was like swallowing fire and roses. Strength flooded back like a dam breaking. Her muscles tightened, her pussy clenched, her nipples were peaking so hard they ached. She moaned into Mara's neck, greedy, already addicted.
Her strength returned and she began to see color again. A rose-tint that made everything more beautiful than it ever had been before. She knew her eyes were crimson like Mara’s now. She knew she was something more.
Rowena, Elric, Gregory, and all the other little servants would make fine vessels for Xenthos. On some level she envied the joy they would find in their simple devotion.
She and her Lady Mara were so much more.
Rowena bowed her head before her new dark mistress.
In offering.
Sarah couldn’t help herself. She drank from her former patroness. The noblewomen’s blood tasted richer than the finest wine.
Kisses traced up her spine as her new lover welcomed The Vampiress Sarah into her new life. Sarah leaned back into her lover’s arms and shoved Rowena’s head back between her legs. Idly thinking about how wonderful it would be to drink from the former Lord Sancrest as his wife licked.
A hand on her cheek turned her head and glowing red eyes stared into hers.
Sarah couldn’t help but kiss the woman that had saved her life. As they kissed, Mara’s fingers rubbed tiny circles around Sarah’s nipples. Going back and forth from one to the other until she eventually let them fall on the necklace between them.
Mara broke the kiss, and looked down at the symbol of Xenthos glowing between Sarah’s breasts.
“Just as The Dark Mother told me, a corrupted priestess would be able to bear her mark like no other vampire can. So long as you never let a man inside you, you can keep wearing her mark and calling on his light. Funny, isn't it? The Creator still answers his wife's chosen daughters, so long as you stay technically pure.”
As Sarah leaned back into Mara's embrace, thighs slick, Rowena's tongue still working, the holy symbol pulsed hot between her breasts like a second heartbeat. Mara leaned close to Sarah and whispered in her ear, “And we’ll make good use of those holy chains, I’m sure.”
Apologies for the gap last week. This story was meant to be posted, but life got in the way and I'm only getting it up now. I had an absolute blast writing this one, and I hope you enjoyed it.
If you're interested in seeing my stories early, I've started posting them on Patreon One-shots are posted roughly a week in advance. Chapters of Samantha are posted three weeks in advance. Any support, either through there or just in the form of feedback, would mean the world to me.
See you next week!