All Chapters of Forgive Me: Marked By The Priest: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

You think I don’t feel you in my bones?You haunt me so completely that even my shadow bends toward where you are.BARON’S POVEzreal’s mouth was still on mine when I lost track of time. Everything else outside, the war, the blood he’d come home covered in, the danger waiting for us at St. Jude’s faded into nothing. The only thing that mattered was the way his hands held me like he was afraid I might disappear if he loosened his grip. The way his breath hitched every time I touched him back.We moved together slowly, desperately, like we were trying to memorize each other all over again. When his finger slipped inside me, I let out a low moan. He added another finger and I freed myself so he could have more access to me. “You like that, don't you baby?” He asked and I nodded, my eyes closed as I was lost in the sensations of him finger fucking me. His mouth closed around one nipple and I nearly saw stars.When he slipped a third finger into me, I felt stretched and full. At that poin

CELESTE’S POVThe estate rose out of the darkness like something carved from a nightmare with its massive gates, high stone walls, iron lanterns burning low and yellow against the fog. It took three hours to get there. Three long, silent, nerve-shredding hours where no one spoke, where every sound of the road felt too loud, where every shadow made my heart stutter.When the convoy finally slowed and rolled through the gates, I barely had time to park before chaos exploded all over again. The moment the engines cut off, Lucien’s men rushed the car. Doors flew open. Hands reached in. “Careful!” one of them barked as they hauled Lucien out of the passenger seat. Lucien groaned, his teeth gritted so hard I thought they might crack. Blood had soaked through the bandage someone had tried to tie around his thigh, dripping onto the gravel. They half-carried, half-dragged him toward the massive front doors of the house.“Wait…” Ashley cried, scrambling out of the backseat with her baby siste

CELESTE'S POVThe last of the medics packed up their tools and filed out quietly, murmuring about antibiotics and rest and no unnecessary movement. That was what Lucien needed to recover. The door clicked shut behind them. Silence fell heavy and thick between us. Lucien lay back against the pillows, his leg freshly bandaged, his skin pale but his eyes sharp again. Too sharp. The kind of sharpness that meant he was done being weak.He didn’t look at me at first but when he did, it was with suspicion. “Are you working with Ezreal?” he asked flatly. The question hit me like a slap.I let out a bitter laugh. “Are you serious right now?”His gaze didn’t waver. “Answer me.”“If I were working with Ezreal,” I snapped, “you’d be dead already. I would’ve shot you myself and saved him the trouble.” His jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.I stepped closer to the bed, my hands shaking now, the jealousy and fear and exhaustion finally boiling over. “You really think I’d hand you over to him?”

Your name is a brand burned into the inside of my ribs. Even if I rip myself apart, I will still carry you.EZREAL’S POVThe next day, I woke up with Baron still asleep on my arm. The soft morning glow cascaded into the room through the little crack in the curtains. I had forgotten to close them up properly the night before. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just lay there, breathing him in, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. His hair was a mess across the pillow, lashes resting softly against his cheeks, lips parted slightly in sleep.Peaceful. Too peaceful for the world we lived in.A slow smile tugged at my mouth. Nights like this were rare. Mornings like this were even rarer. We were both naked, tangled together beneath the sheets, his leg thrown over my thigh, my arm locked around his waist. My body reacted instantly to the warmth of him, to the memory of what we’d done only hours before. I wanted him. Badly. I wanted to roll him onto his back, pin his wrists above his

BARON’S POVAs we turned to leave, I caught Ezreal’s hand and squeezed it once. Just once. He looked back at me, eyes soft despite everything. And for a second, just one second, I forgot about Malrick. I forgot about Lucien. I forgot about blood and revenge and rituals. All I saw was the man I loved walking toward danger with me in tour.“Let’s all come back,” I whispered.His lips curved faintly. “Always.” And then we stepped out together. Into whatever waited next. The drive to the chapel was quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet, more like the kind that presses against your ears and make every breath sound too loud.Ezreal drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely near his thigh where his gun was hidden beneath his coat. Vincent sat in the passenger seat, focused and rigid. Aiden and I were in the back.No one spoke. When the old stone chapel finally came into view, my chest tightened. The parking lot was nearly empty. Only a few cars remained, scattered like aban