CHAPTER 3: SANTUARY OF SHADOWS

“J, are you even listening?” I blinked, pulling my gaze away from Elias.

The church basement, where we were having the youth meeting, smelled of coffee and industrial cleaner; a sharp contrast to the incense and old wood of the sanctuary above. 

My skin hummed as I sat in a circle of plastic chairs. I felt like I was glowing, a neon sign of sin in a room full of teenagers talking about the summer mission trip. 

Every time I shifted, the lingering dampness between my thighs reminded me of the victory I had just claimed. I had made the holy man adjust his trousers in a hallway.

I looked around to see my friends sitting around me, looking at me like they were waiting for a very important reply. “What did you say?”

“Damn girl. Isn’t college supposed to make one smarter?” Mark, my friend since Sunday school, and an occasional hook-up. 

I rolled my eyes, giving him a ‘fuck you’ sign, making all of them laugh. 

Sarah, a girl who had just recently moved into town a year before I moved, leaned in, her eyes wide with that familiar, hungry look. “I asked if Elias…. I mean, Father Thorne… is really as strict at home as he is here. He and your dad have been best friends for years, right?” She whispered. “I bet you’ve probably seen him in his literal pajamas.”

A few other girls leaned in, their expressions equally desperate. It was the open secret of the youth group that everyone had a crush on Elias. 

He was the "hot preacher," the one they all doodled hearts for in the margins of their Bibles.

“He’s... complicated,” I said, a wave of sharp, territorial possessiveness flaring in my chest. They saw the suit and the smile; they didn't know the rasp of his voice when he called someone a good girl. “He doesn’t really switch off. He’s always the preacher since I was young.”

“Ugh, I don’t care if he’s strict,” another sighed, fanning herself with a pamphlet. “Did you see him today? The way he gripped the pulpit? Those forearms... I’d let him preach to me for eight hours straight if it meant I could just sit that close to him.”

“Imagine that voice telling you what to do in bed,” Sarah whispered, giggling. “You’d have to say ‘Yes, Father’ to everything.”

My stomach flipped as my mind flashed back to the restroom…. the husky command of his voice. 

My breath hitched as a fresh throb of heat rolled through my groin. Sarah was closer to the truth than she’d ever know.

“Ladies.” Elias suddenly called out; his voice cut through our discussion like a whip. 

We looked up sheepishly to see him staring at us sternly, his arms crossed over his chest, causing the black fabric of his shirt to stretch tight across his shoulders. 

He looked entirely back in control, save for the slight, tell-tale darkness beneath his eyes. “This is not a social club,” he said, his baritone echoing off the low ceiling. “If you’re finished gossiping about the mundane, perhaps we can focus on the outreach program.”

The girl's face immediately flushed with a mix of shame and adoration. 

Sarah let out a tiny, shaky sigh. “Even when he’s mad, it’s hot,” she mouthed to me.

I didn't answer. I was too busy watching the way Elias’s gaze tracked over me. 

It wasn't the look of a shepherd checking on a lamb; it was the look of a man who had tasted something he shouldn't have and was starving for a second bite.

“Jade, move over,” Mark said, sliding his chair closer to mine. He leaned in close, his hand resting casually on the back of my chair, then his fingers started massaging my shoulder like he liked to do. “You okay? You look a little out of it during service.”

I leaned into his touch just because I wanted to see what Elias would do. 

I caught Elias’s eyes. For a split second, the professional mask slipped. His nostrils flared, and his gaze dropped to Mark’s hand on my skin. 

The possessiveness in his expression was so raw it made my blood sing. He looked like he wanted to reach across the room and snap Mark’s wrist.

“Whoa,” Mark whispered, pulling back slightly. “Why is Father Thorne looking at me like he wants to remove my head? Did I miss a verse about personal space?”

By the time Mark finished speaking, Elias had already snapped his head away. 

He turned his attention to a girl in the front row who was asking a mundane question about the car wash fundraiser. 

He smiled at her with that perfect, practiced, benevolent smile and spoke to her with a gentleness that made my blood boil with instant, irrational jealousy.

I hated it. I hated that he could flip the switch so easily. I wanted him to be looking at only me. 

I wanted him to lose control.

“We still need a lead volunteer PA for the gala organization,” Elias announced, his voice regaining its steady rhythm. “It involves staying late most evenings this week to coordinate the donations and the silent auction. It’s a lot of work, and it requires someone... dedicated.” He looked around the room, a charming smile on his face. “It’s holiday. So if some of you could come in on Tuesday to help clean this up, I would really appreciate it.”

Before he could even finish the sentence, my hand was in the air.

“I’ll do it,” I said, my voice ringing out louder than I intended. 

The room went silent. A few of the girls looked at me with envy, while Mark just looked confused.

“Hey,” Mark whispered urgently to me. “I thought we planned to hang out during this break.”

“Depends on if I get picked,” I whispered back. 

I watched Elias as he read our lips, then looked at me, his blue eyes narrowing. 

He knew what I was doing. 

“Very well,” he said, his voice dropping into that low, raspy register. “Jade will be my temporary PA. See me in the vestry after we’re done here to collect the keys and the inventory lists.”

As the meeting broke up, I waited till the last of the group filtered out before moving toward him, my heart hammering. 

“The keys, Pastor?” I asked, my voice a soft provocation.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy brass ring. Instead of dropping them into my palm, he held onto them, forcing me to reach out and take them, forcing contact. 

“This is a lot of responsibility, Jade,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine. “Are you sure you can handle being alone in the dark with... the work?”

“I think I can handle a lot more than you give me credit for,” I replied, my thumb tracing the back of his hand.

He leaned in just an inch, the scent of his woody cologne wrapping around me. “We’ll see,” he rasped. “Don’t forget to lock the doors behind you. You never know what might sneak in when you’re not looking.”

He let go of the keys, the metal cold against my skin, but the fire he had left behind was still burning.