Page 25 of Where the Dark Knelt (Worshipped by Darkness #1)

Chapter Sixteen

Desmond

A decade later.

Today was the final race before the World Championship. Today decided who would go from our team. We had already raced ten times this season, and now it all came down to this final event. Was I even a little worried? Definitely not.

I was the best on the board of champions.

Untouchable. Today’s race was merely a formality to prove what everyone already knew, that I would be the one representing us at the World Championship.

And it would be held here, in Avenhurst, my city, my territory.

At the grand stadium carved into the side of the mountains, towering above the misted pine forests.

What an amazing location for such an event… an arena worthy of me.

But while everyone else was obsessing over lap times, tire strategies, and tuning engines under the pale dawn, I… spent my night elsewhere.

I watched Eveline again from the darkness of her small monastery room.

She slept so sweetly, curled under her thin blankets, her lips parted with quiet, needy breaths.

The moonlight touched her face like a blessing.

I wanted to crawl into her bed like a cat and curl against her warmth, bury myself in her scent, and fall asleep with her heartbeat echoing against my chest.

She moaned my name softly in her sleep. She didn’t even know it was my name…

not consciously. But through her dreams, I let her feel it.

I let her know the taste of me, the feeling of my arms around her, the safety and sin of being mine.

I whispered into the secret, dark corners of her soul that I could fulfil everything she ever craved — every hidden fantasy, every forbidden desire.

Sweetness, devotion, respect… and sometimes, when she ached for it, something harder.

Something rougher, darker, raw enough to make her remember that she was alive.

She had occasionally craved such harsh carnal delights, and in the realm of dreams, I had granted her every desire.

Yet, even after all this time, she remained stubbornly resistant to fully surrendering to my dark charms, even as her body betrayed her deepest longings.

What manner of infuriating, headstrong creature was she, to deny the exquisite bliss that awaited her in my arms?

The audacity of her restraint only fueled my determination to shatter her defenses and claim her completely as my own.

I watched her twitch beneath the sheets, her fingers curling as if reaching for me in her dreams. My sweet little nun… my little angel with shadows coiling inside her. She had no idea yet, but soon she would understand.

Soon… she would belong to me completely.

I yearned to remain entwined with her, to worship her luscious body with fervent kisses and caresses until the dawn broke.

Regrettably, duty called, and I was compelled to steal away like a specter, slipping silently from her chamber without rousing her from slumber.

Though she dreamt of our passionate joining, I had already begun my gradual infiltration of her mind and flesh, a possession she remained stubbornly resistant to acknowledging in truth.

As I strode purposefully towards the track, my arousal raged unabated, a painful throb of need pulsing in time with the phantom squeeze of her heavenly walls around my aching cock.

I gritted my teeth, stifling a feral growl as I adjusted my straining pants, the confining fabric a poor substitute for her silken heat.

The locker room buzzed with the energy of my competitors, each one honing in on their own strategies for victory.

Yet, amidst the din of their chatter and the clamor of my own racing thoughts, one thing remained crystal clear - my unquenchable hunger for her.

It was only a matter of time before she yielded to me completely, before I could plunge into her welcoming depths and claim her with the force of a thousand sins.

The anticipation was agony, a delicious torment that left me teetering on the razor’s edge of control.

Soon, I would have her, and the world would bear witness to the exquisite union of demon and maiden.

The race would be won, but my pursuit of her would be only beginning.

“Hello, Desmond!” some of the guys shouted as I walked in. A couple came over to slap my hand and bump their shoulders against mine, hyped up with pre-race energy.

But then there was Dean. Always Dean.

He annoyed me the most out of all of them.

He tried so hard to keep that aura of perfection.

But people age. That’s just nature’s way.

By forty, his once uniformly dark hair was streaked with gray at the temples, making him look like a washed-up silver fox.

This sport didn’t spare anyone; by forty, most had retired, become coaches, or disappeared from the tracks altogether.

But not Dean. He was still here, still trying to catch a medal at every competition.

The World Championship was his ultimate dream.

Too bad for him… I was always there to take it first.

“Hi, kid,” he grinned, combing back his streaked hair with deliberate arrogance. “You ready for me to kick your ass today, huh?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, nodding lazily in his direction.

I slammed my locker shut and twisted the cap off my sports supplement mix.

I needed the energy, but lately it felt like it was being sucked right out of me before I even stepped onto the track.

Then again… I thought about Eveline. How sweet it would be if she sucked my energy out of me in her own way.

A mutually beneficial energy suction… I smirked to myself at the image.

I shifted my gaze to Dean, who was still standing there, trying to loom over me like some righteous old hero.

He liked to pretend he was my main rival, but let’s be honest, the kids coming up at eighteen were showing better results than him.

The only thing keeping him in the rankings was his experience, his daring maneuvers, and his ability to stay calm when everyone else panicked.

Dean slapped me on the shoulder, grinning with his stained teeth too close to my face. “You don’t seem to be getting old, Des! Tell me your secret.”

“I have a good cosmetologist and drink virgins’ blood every morning,” I said flatly, pushing his hand off my shoulder. He snorted, rolling his eyes with that deliberate ‘I’m better than you’ act.

“Gay? And a virgin chaser, huh?”

I turned to him slowly, eyebrows raised. “Do you care if I’m gay or straight? Or if I’m chasing virgins? Should I drink your blood instead old-man?” I tilted my head and stepped closer, lowering my voice to a whisper only he could hear. “Or do you want to suck my dick too, hmm?”

His eyes widened, his jaw twitching like he was about to snap back. I smirked and flicked my fingers toward my belt buckle. “Should I pull it out for you?”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish on a hook before he turned away, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath.

I burst out laughing, my voice echoing off the tiled lockers.

People were such idiots. Every time they tried to poke at me, thinking they could rattle my composure or humiliate me…

I just flipped their world upside down with a few words.

I leaned back against the locker and took a long drink of my supplement mix. “I look better than you, Dean. All the women in the world are mine. They come to me on their knees. I don’t even need to try.”

He glared at me from across the room, pretending to fix his helmet straps, but I saw the crack in his ego.

And fuck, it felt good.

“What’s your problem, old man?” I asked softly, almost to myself. But he heard. And that was enough.

“Yes, I’ve got a lot of chicks too,” Dean said with that tired grin, as if it mattered. “I’ll definitely win today. Watch.”

“Ha. Try it, old Dean.” I winked at him as I pulled my balaclava over my head, adjusting it until only my eyes were visible.

“You’ll see. Even if it’s not today, I’ll smash you on the asphalt next time.”

“You say that every time,” I replied flatly, pulling on my gloves. “And over the years, you’ve only come in first a couple of times when I was not there. But if it was with me I would have always won.”

“Watch, kid.” He turned away with a half-smile, heading for his motorcycle. His back looked tense despite the casual confidence in his stride. He understood. He knew he wouldn’t win today.

Because today, only I was meant to win. Only I would go to the championship.

And after that… I’d have to disappear again for a while.

Wait another hundred years before I showed up on the tracks again.

People eventually noticed when something was off, when a man didn’t age like the others, when his body didn’t break down the way theirs did.

Then came the demon rumors, the exorcists, or worse… demon hunters.

I didn’t need that hassle. Their righteous crusades were so…

boring. They didn’t understand anything about us.

They killed us for fun, believing we were evil incarnate.

But the truth was simpler: everything we gave was what humans wanted.

Their own desires summoned us. Love, sex, vengeance, knowledge…

we only fulfilled the cravings buried in their souls.

We didn’t barge into their minds uninvited.

I chuckled to myself as I slid my helmet on and fastened each strap with slow precision.

Eveline… she was no different. She wanted love.

To be loved and desired, to know her own body and her partner’s body in every dark, trembling detail.

She wanted it desperately, but she shoved those cravings into a locked chest in her mind, buried under guilt and religion and fear.