The Red Priest Novels & Stories

A man who should be in his mid-forties gestured for us to come forward. I imagined he would be the priest who Damien had assigned to do the ritual. Just as I had imagined, he was the one. When we got close enough to the altar, he gestured for us to stop and then, he went barefoot. The supposed priest threw away the white garment on him, leaving him with an all-red material from head to toe. He carried a scepter in his hand and then went ahead to place his candles. He also arranged some herbs and sipped them in a liquid, probably a spiritual oil.

As soon as we stepped outside, a car pulled up, and a priest emerged. “Lord, please have mercy!” The priest exclaimed. Then he made the sign of the cross and attempted to get into his car. “Take one step forward, and I’ll shoot!” With his jaw clenched, Farrell said. What puzzled me was that he wasn’t afraid to take people’s lives. He’d taken down two bodies and was ready to take down more. “We meet again, Torelli,” he said with a smirk as he approached the priest. The priest consistently made the sign of the cross as he backed up on the body of his car.

“…You…! To think you’d still behave so presumptuously even though you’re about to be done for!” growled the priest in anger. Before he could say anything else, however, the priest momentarily froze. Now staring-wide eyed at Gerald, the priest was able to somehow see flames reflected in Gerald’s eyes. He couldn’t look away, and shortly after, the priest began feeling a burning sensation on the soles of his feet… Following that, the priest screamed miserably before turning into nothing but dust in less than a second!

“That’s bullshit! There is nothing to substantiate this girl’s claim! Moon marks are always on the wrist.” “No,” the priest said, glancing between the two of us. “Not always.” The tone of his voice seemed heavier than it should have been. I didn’t know how to interpret it, but I didn’t question it either. The priest was on our side in this, and that was all that I could hope for either of us at the moment. Candido closed his tunic, and Sibyl surged forward, reaching for him. “If you leave this ceremony, the Red Moon Pack will no longer cooperate with you!”

A man with an orange goatee and a brown fedora boomed behind the marble countertop of the bar and I felt the muscles in my face relax, thinking how Darlene used to be able to do that for me. Say something dumb or some stupid joke to make me smile, when all I wanted to do was curl up somewhere and expire. “We’ve got much to discuss my friend,” Priest said as I settled into the leather stool behind me, slamming the waiting drink home and ignoring the fond sparkle in his eyes as he leaned in to look up at me. Priest was one of the elites in the mafia ring, a man equal shades friendly as he was deadly. A friend. A good friend. “Need a smoke?” Priest chipped, holding out the gold metal of a light

"I'm sorry. I know this sucks." "It's fine. I'm fine." I wasn't fine but saying it out loud wouldn't change anything. "Besides, this town isn't completely terrible." "Oh?" Interest sparked in her voice. "Do tell." I smiled despite everything, thinking about dark eyes and rough hands and a voice that made my knees weak. "There's this priest." "A priest? Lilith, are you serious right now?" "His name is Father Damien and Soph, you should see him. He looks like God himself spent extra time on the details just to torture women."

People that have sworn to remain virgins or celibates for the rest of their lives. Immediately I see them, I feel my body tingle with excitement. Fuck this is not right. I’m here for deliverance not these stupid feelings I’ve been having all week but then they even look better than the photo I saw of them. Shit, shit, shit. They continued to walk closer and I finally got to fully see their faces and features. The first man or should I say priest was younger. Maybe in his twenties with dark brown curly hair like a bouquet of scattered flowers and eyes the color of hazel. Father Leonard.

I now turned to Critsy knowing it had to be said. “Gorm does not lie. Everyone listens, these are good people a good pack that is far stronger than we could ever be because they allow everyone to be who they should be, mate whoever they want to mate.” I watched as his eyes met Claire’s and she quickly put her head down. “There is hope here and love here. We can be happy without ever having to run away again and all we have to do is follow our true alpha, the last true descendant of the red wolves, the Crimson Priestess.” Hushed voices and intense shock swept through almost every single wolf.

“The priest is missing. How…?” Carden asked. “What happened?” “That’s something I need to find out. Someone from his neighborhood said he saw some men dragging him into a car and zoomed off, but they didn’t see the men’s faces because they were wearing masks,” Fred added. “Oh my God,” Carden exclaimed. “This is bad.” “Yes, it is. And I strongly believe those are Arnold’s men. I know what Arnold can do. My fear now is that the priest doesn’t say anything about me paying him up for you to step in as the priest… or we are cooked.”

The kind that could make any woman feel something sinful stir deep inside her. But the man speaking wasn’t a mafia boss. He was hot, tall—yes. But he was also a priest. A fucking hot priest. One I lusted for. Obsessed over. The one who made me touch myself at night, desperate and aching in ways I never thought I could. Enzo Romano. A walking sin wrapped in holiness. Long black hair he tied back into a ponytail, piercing gray eyes that looked right into your soul, and features so divine they made you believe God really did have favorites.