Priest Youngblood Novels & Stories

the priest starts, and I have to school my features and keep a slight smile on my face at his words. I can't help but wonder if the priest knows the truth about our union. If he knows that neither of us is in love or wants to be here. "On this beautiful day..." The priest continues, but before he can even finish his sentence, he falls backward, and a red stain starts to spread across the middle of his chest. "What?" I manage to ask before screams start going off all around me. I snap my head to the crowd and see other people dropping to the ground. I see a few men pulling their guns out, and it's in that moment that my mind finally registers what's going on.

His deep clear voice echoed with every word. Having concluded his discussion with King Ekmond, the priest bowed then left his presence. On his way he bowed again before a fair, beguiling young man vested in black cloak, having short silvery hair which blended with his pearl gray eyes, giving him a ravishing gaze. As soon as the young lad stood before King Ekmond he went on his knees then stretched his opened hands forward. “Bless me Father," he spoke with a calm still voice. King Ekmond touched the lad’s hands then touched his head, “Rise my son.”

His grip on my hand tightened as he helped me up the steps to stand before the priest, his movements gentle, making sure my dress draped perfectly around me. He adjusted the train with surprising gentleness, then straightened and caught the priest's eye. The priest was younger than I'd expected, maybe in his early fifties, with slightly grey hair at his temples. He didn't look old, exactly, but there was a hardness to him that spoke of a life lived outside normal church walls. He was dressed in traditional robes, but I could see the edge of a tattoo peeking out from beneath his collar. "Try not to put her to sleep, Father," Dante said, his tone dry. "Keep it short, or I might skip to the goo

His once-powerful frame seemed diminished somehow, though his eyes retained their calculating coldness. "It's time," Giovanni said, offering his arm with no warmth or apology in his gaze. Isabella took it, her fingers barely touching the fabric of his sleeve. "Yes, Father. It's time." ******* The Chiesa di San Marco was filled to capacity with the most dangerous people in Italy. Old mafia families sat alongside corrupt politicians and international crime lords, all dressed impeccably, all watching with predatory interest as Isabella walked down the aisle on her father's arm.

So send me and let me die there instead of hinging me. Shaly and Noaha were crying and tensed, they just wanted to see their son alive anyhow. They said to the priest,"My son is very strong and he is skilled in sword fighting. Please, give him a chance." Priest was so depressed thinking that they have to live in darkness forever and at the same time,he was getting annoyed by Ricardo and his parents. Priest said in anger,"No and it is my last decision." Priest said to soldiers,"Take him into jail."

The snap back to the physical world was a thunderclap. The cellar was a charnel house. Killian and Asmodeus were a blur of violence, the hybrid Hunter using every ounce of his Devonshire linked and Blackwood hardened strength to toss the skeletal Lich aside, only to be swatted back by the creature’s necrotic power. Julian was at the altar, his face a mask of agony and love. He didn't wait for a key; he grabbed the silver shackles with his bare hands. The holy metal hissed against his skin, his flesh charring and smoking as the silver burned the Alpha, but he didn't let go. He wrenched the metal apart with a primal roar of sacrifice.

A mournful cry clogs my throat as I watch a puddle of blood spread around his head. Priest steps in front of me, his face tense as he pulls me into his arms. “It’s okay, Sage. Take a deep breath, baby.” Wanting to block out the sight of the dead man’s eyes, I tighten my arms around Priest’s waist and bury my face in his chest.

Confess her sins maybe? It was only now that she had gotten close enough to get a good look at the priest on the alter. He looked young, perhaps somewhere between his early to late twenties. He wore a black cassock, along with a silver cross dangling over his chest. He had slightly curly dark brown hair and dark eyes. She found yourself immediately drawn to him. He had this angelic, yet somehow dark, powerful aura all around him and in the words he spoke. She listened intently as he preached the words of God, his voice deep and serious

" it has happened to you before anyway, but I will try to help you the way I can" I bow a little "Thank you father" I follow him to his office "Please, lay down on the desk" I do just that, he places a cross on my chest, closes his eyes and starts speaking in tongues I feel something move around me, I suddenly start struggling and shaking "Hold on Precious, fight it!" Tom says wearing a worried look on his face I felt so much energy around me, suddenly I burst out some kind of purple light the priest falls to the ground I get up immediately and run to him

The priest brought the dagger close to the young man's skin and he nodded imperceptibly, before the blade sank tearing the flesh. Immediately the blood began to gush and the other priest approached with the cup and placed it under the hand of Nathan who clenched it into his fist and bent it, so that the blood dripped inside the cup. At first in a continuous tinkling then, when the young king clenched his fist, in a decisive flow, until the cup was filled.