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Devotion: Tales of Rosewood

Applauding_Lamb
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Synopsis
Devotion revolves around the tale of Rosewood, a quaint small town. Its peaceful existence is suddenly disturbed when vampires and other supernatural creatures converge upon it. Taking the Point of view of the different main characters to explore Rosewood. Please Read Note: This story incorporates multiple points of view (POVs), changing between characters in most chapters. (It will not change POV during a chapter. The POV will only change for each new chapter.) It offers a diverse range of content, including occasional strong language and sexual tension. If these elements are not to your liking, please refrain from reading further. Feel free to assess your interest after perusing the first three chapters, as they will provide a sample of the narrative style.

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Chapter 1 - The First Sin

Celeste POV

We were frozen in time, suspended in an unyielding grip of immobility. Perhaps fear had paralyzed him, rendering him incapable of reacting. As for me, curiosity coursed through my veins like a relentless adrenaline rush, keeping me transfixed. Seconds stretched into eternity, the weight of silence pressing upon us before a single heartbeat shattered the stillness. I watched his pupils slowly descend, a macabre dance performed in unison with my eyes. In my hand, I held someone's intestines, their warmth and the pulsating rhythm of life coursing through my fingers. Sinking into the moist, velvety texture, I couldn't help but marvel at the squirming tangle of slimy noodles within my grasp.

With an electrifying flash of my eyes, I pierced the very essence of his being. He recoiled, taking an unsteady step backward, his eyes transfixed on the rivulets of blood carving their languid path toward his feet. "Archbishop...Nick," his voice trembled. He then revealed a cross from the depths of his coat pocket, its silver gleaming in the dim light. My head tilted to the side, my hair swaying in sync with the motion, as I cast an unsettling glare upon the cross.

In response to his act of faith, I rose from the shadows, striding purposefully toward him. As I passed by his outstretched cross, our eyes were locked in an intense confrontation. Now, face to face, his arm shook violently, but his unwavering gaze pierced my very core. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," his voice quivered, and the grip on the cross tightened. "I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort..." Before he could continue his recitation, I gently placed a finger upon his quivering lips, silencing his meaningless words.

His eyes hungrily trace every inch of my exposed body, savoring every curve and contour. However, it was the tattoo above my waistline that held his interest. Can't say I blame him though. His attention then shifted, entranced by the sight of blood trickling down my neck, flowing over my breasts, swirling around my nipples, and finally staining the floor below. A moment later, his gaze met mine again, and a bashful reaction flickered across his face. I teasingly withdrew my finger from his quivering lips. "In God's name I..." His words were abruptly halted by a swift slap, causing his head to snap to the left.

As he recovered from the impact, his eyes widened with surprise and confusion, his brows shooting upward as if trying to escape the weight of the moment. His lips parted, but no words escaped. The breath caught in his throat. He gradually emerged from the impact, his senses slowly returning, his mind racing to make sense of the sudden turn of events.

At that moment, my attention shifted, capturing the sight of the cross he held in his hand as it began to emit a weird glow. Sensing his impending protest, I firmly pressed my entire hand over his mouth, feeling the warmth of his breath against my palm as his struggling breath kicked my skin. Forcefully driving him to the cold, unforgiving floor. The cross slipped from his grasp, crashing to the ground. At that moment, our eyes converged again, locked in a dreadful, unbending gaze.

Nuzzling into the curve of his neck, he tightly clenched my breast by accident, I would assume. A mix of pain and pleasure was evident in his grip as my fangs slowly sank into his flesh. Grunts and sighs erupted from his throat as I withdrew my head. I allowed our cascade of intertwined golden blond hair to envelop our faces, shrouding his vision and leaving only my mesmerizing glare in his sight. As his grip on my breast loosened, blood seeped from my mouth, tracing a crimson path down his cheek.

A nervous comment slipped from his lips. "Why do you stare at me?" Simultaneously, my knee was pressed into his groin, a deliberate act to discern any telltale signs of arousal amid this chaos. "I'm trying to determine whether you're brave, foolish, or merely submissive," I provocatively replied. For reasons unknown to me, I desired to provoke an explosive mix of fear, seduction, and the shattering of his convictions. I held him captive beneath me, eagerly awaiting his response, savoring the delicious tension in the air.

Releasing my grip on him, I lowered myself onto his lap, his speechless form beneath me. "It appears we've come to an impasse," I said. Meeting his stare as our heads aligned, both taken by the sight of his discarded cross on the floor. "Should you dare recite another biblical verse, I shall gut you as mercilessly as Archbishop Nick," I calmly warned. My head rhythmically tilted back and forth, my hair elegantly danced along. In that fleeting moment, his eyes briefly passed over my figure again. With a seductive smile playing on my lips, I inched closer, our breaths mingling, and whispered, "Tell me, dear Matthew, what sins lie concealed beneath your holy facade?"

A wave of uncertainty passed through his eyes, yet he stood firm in his defiance. "I am a servant of God," he declared, his voice brimming with unwavering conviction. "I have devoted my life to spreading his word and guiding lost souls towards salvation."

Laughter erupted from my lips, echoing throughout the entire room. "Oh, how utterly charming," I sneered, tracing a finger along the contours of his face, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. I just love it when men of god try to stay in character. " We both know that beneath that virtuous exterior lies a dark, forbidden desire," I whispered.

A flame of rebellion ignited within him, a spark of resistance against the web of manipulation I had spun around him. "You speak of heresy," he spat, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and apprehension. "I shall not succumb to your wicked ways witch."

"Witch?" I giggled in response.

"Do you consider this cute?"

"No, it's adorable."

"By God's guidance, you shall not break me, demon."

"Demon or witch, I can't be both at once."

"All of the above," he retorted with an angry expression.

Grinning in response, pressing my hips slowly into his groin, grinding against him. "Ah, but is it not exhilarating to dance on the edge of damnation? To indulge in the forbidden fruits that lie tantalizingly beyond your reach? The Church, with its dogmas and rules, has shackled your desires, Brother Matthew. However, with me, you can taste true liberation."

A flicker of doubt danced across his face, his unwavering resolve waning in the face of temptation. I pressed my body against him, sensing the tumultuous clash of emotions emanating from within him. At that moment, the boundaries between dominance and submission blurred, granting me control over his very being.

As the room plunged into darkness, the fallen cross cast a faint glow, illuminating our united bodies. The air grew thick with sin's intoxicating scent. With a final, lingering press of my lips against his, I could feel his arousal growing through the fabric of his soft pants. However, our tryst was abruptly interrupted as the chamber door swung open, a swarm of Templar's flooding in. They discovered the aftermath of my bloody feast and the presence of my ill-fated playmate. From the vantage point of the church's pinnacle, I savored the scene while listening attentively as they laid blame and demonized poor Matthew beneath the watchful gaze of the crescent moon.