Word Of Honor Novel By Priest Novels & Stories

Derek was drowning in the guilt of it all, still trying to do the right thing from behind the scenes. Always the hero. But even heroes break. I let my fingers drift to the scar on my arm. The one I’d shown him a thousand times. The mark of sacrifice. Proof that once, I’d saved his life. That story had carried me through years of loyalty. Years of him looking at me like I was someone worth protecting. My smile faltered. “Cassandra of the Stolen Glory.” The priestess’s voice came back to me, cold and laced with something too ancient for comfort. She’d looked at me as if she could see everything—every lie, every half-truth, every inch of blood that wasn’t mine to claim.

"I didn't hurt innocent people. I'm saying in the figurative sense of the word. I would be unable to hurt a fly. You know, when I was younger, I was abandoned by my mother at the doors of a convent. I was raised among the nuns, priest. I was taught since I was little that I had to be devout. I had to be faithful to what I believed. I learned a lot from the nuns, I can even say that everything I am today is because of them. It was a half lie. I had learned to be devoted, but not to God. I had become that woman without remorse for learning that the mäl can reside even in an environment surrounded by sanctified images. However, the priest did not need to know these details, he just needed to gi

“I find a little hard to believe!” Marcia called out, taking a step forward, causing Deacon to take a step back. “My lord, I would never lie to you, I have been present for their confessions, and have brought the offenders with me to confess their sins to you in person” Priest Deacon replied, bowing to Rector, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, if Deacon had proven true in finding who had infiltrated the palace, it implied that his three best generals would seem incompetent.

" After informing him about the vision and leaving out the suicide aspect, I yelled the words out loud to this Priest. Fortunately, I had paid him a visit before his next service began. “What?” I told him I was astonished by his pleased expression. "I'm sorry, but the verse you just yelled is one of my favorite Bible scriptures, Matthew 11:28, as said by our Savior." With that wide grin on his face, the Priest answered to me. His response made me grumble a bit as I realized that my instinct had been correct in assuming those lines were from a Christian bible scripture. "However, why did he approach me and say that?" I then claimed I was going to question the Priest, but I believe I already k

Each revelation he discovered only intensified his resolve, fueling a righteous anger that motivated him to persevere. Aware that Ronin had been entangled in the Masons' web for years, the priest acknowledged the delicate balance he needed to strike. Ronin's loyalty to the order had been built on trust and shared experiences, making it challenging to dismantle the intricate web of deception that surrounded him. The priest realized that his approach must be compassionate yet unwavering—a delicate dance between empathy and accountability.

He exchanged some words with the priest, with whom he’d earlier spoken on the phone, and then made introductions between the holy man and his wife and good friend. “An honor to meet you all.” The priest bowed his head. “I am very sorry it is under these circumstances.” The man was middle-aged, but his voice sounded weathered, perhaps permanently hoarse from decades of overuse. “My condolences,” he added, taking turns looking the three of them in the eye, “for your loss.” “Thank you.” Nolan gave the holy man a slight bow of his own head. He shared brief glances with Yena and then Cindy, who both nodded at him encouragingly. Then returned his gaze to the priest.

"There's warm milk in the oven. Drink it and rest up." The line went dead, and my heart sank. A gust of wind swept the dress, dragging me back to that storm years ago when he risked everything to save me. When I asked him why, he said that he'd follow me into life or death. Touched, I swore I'd forgive him for anything except betrayal. Now everything had changed. I watched the speck in the distance, late for buses, so I huddled in a 24-hour convenience store. At dawn, I dragged myself home and booked a flight abroad.

"What can I do for you?" "Reverend, I'm going to be direct to you. We need your help for a bible passage. Our CI left this clue before he was killed by an unidentified hitman," Detective Javier explained before showing the letter to the priest. "We think that message was connected to how the hitman would kill our witness. The CI was Catholic so we figured he knew the Bible well," he continued. The Reverend looked for his bible on the shelf. When he got it, he opened it and searched for the passage.

He had a composed expression as if the one who died was not their young master but a stranger. Asher had always been tactful. He was already deeply regretful because he was bewitched by Klaus and missed the chance to be my chief mate. Seeing Orion's fate, he immediately knelt on the ground and begged for my forgiveness. "It was Rola. She seduced us. She said she would give the Eagle Clan a lot of resources once she became Beast Lady. I was also deceived. Chief, Rhea, believe me. I was just too concerned about the Eagle Clan!"

"I told myself for years it was about honor. Keeping my father's word. It's taken meeting you, actually meeting you, to understand it was never really about honor at all. I think some part of me simply refused to let you be gone." I didn't have an answer for that. Not one I trusted myself to say out loud, sitting on a terrace with the weight of Harlan's flawless lie still sitting cold in my chest and this man's honesty landing somewhere entirely different, somewhere I hadn't let anything land in a very long time.