Page 45 of Where the Dark Knelt (Worshipped by Darkness #1)

He only chuckled, eyes glinting with wicked pleasure. “See you soon,” he whispered, saluting me before revving the bike and roaring away from the monastery gates.

I stood there trembling, my face flushed, my thighs sticky, my heart pounding with confusion and shame. As I turned, Astra was already walking towards me with a curious smile, and I had no idea what to say.

“Welcome back… from…” Astra murmured as she embraced me. Her familiar scent of lavender wrapped around me, calming my racing heart. She always carried lavender in her pockets, believing it warded off evil spirits and brought restful sleep.

And it did… but for me, it wasn’t just the lavender. It was her. Astra was like the wise sister I never had, always ready to help, to comfort without judgment, to keep every secret safe.

“This is… uh…?” She tilted her head, studying me with curious eyes. “The parishioner who begged you to talk… you’re with him…?” Her brows furrowed slightly.

“Of course not!” I blurted out, cutting her off, my own heart hammering.

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “I’m just teasing. Of course you’re not doing anything like that with him, even though… well, anyone could be tempted. But knowing you… you’re not like that. You’d never give in to some guy for a one-time thing.”

“Yes, that’s right,” I said, my voice quiet. “One-time sex is godless… and besides, we made vows to be strong… to endure for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s true but not for you, not yet.” She winked at me and nodded firmly, squeezing my hand in support.

I forced a small smile, but inside I felt a quiet, aching guilt. I had violated so many vows before even completing my training to become a nun. There were rituals and oaths awaiting me that required purity… and this was only a minor sin compared to everything else I’d have to give up.

“Let’s go to breakfast,” Astra said kindly, tugging my hand as she led me towards the kitchen.

“Let’s go,” I whispered back.

The scent of rice porridge with melted butter and fresh fruits drifted through the corridor, wrapping me in a fleeting warmth. It was my favorite breakfast, simple and satisfying enough to fuel the whole day. A smile flickered across my lips despite the turmoil in my chest.

I knew my path to monkhood was swaying, tilting further and further away from what was righteous. Perhaps I was already deviating onto the path of sin.

But I had to hold on. I had to.

On Eata’s advice, I went to bathe in the hot mountain springs, carrying a cone of salt mixed with spices she’d given me. Supposedly, it would wash away any negative energy clinging to my soul.

All the way there, my mind was a whirlwind. What was I even doing with my life? And worst of all… he — that damn demon — sometimes made me doubt if I was even on the right path.

But how could I know for sure if this path was right?

When I finally undressed and slipped into the bubbling hot water, relief seeped into my bones.

The springs always helped me unwind. Their warmth wrapped around me like an embrace, their steam easing the tension in my body.

It felt as if they really did have healing effects, chasing away the heaviness from my chest.

I looked around, but I didn’t notice the demon watching me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. So he lied to me. He was not watching me today… Weirdo.

Everything seemed… calmer now. As if life was returning to its predictable rhythm. In just a couple of weeks, I would take my vows and become a nun. That was the plan, wasn’t it?

But… did I even want it anymore?

The demon, Desmond, oh that damned Desmond, had shattered something inside me. He made me question everything.

What would I even do outside the monastery? Go back to office work? Ten years of monotony, always sitting behind a desk no one cared about, doing tasks that no one valued. Would I have just gone insane there, forgotten by the world?

Would I have met someone, fallen in love, started a family…?

I bit my lips anxiously as I surfaced from under the water. Thoughts flooded over me like waves, drowning my fragile calm.

I reached for the flask of spices and poured them into the spring. Instantly, an earthy aroma rose — lavender, pepper, salt, and some unknown flowers mingling in a soothing cloud. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes.

“Okay… calm down… just calm down,” I whispered to myself. “These days have been wild, yes, but I’m alive… moving forward with my life… thank God…”

But then another thought slithered into my mind like a snake.

If I take my vows and become a nun… maybe the demon will leave me alone. Maybe I’ll just quietly exist in this monastery until I die… and in the end, give my soul to God…

But… what if I gave it to a demon instead?

Fear coiled tight in my chest. I didn’t want to think about that darkness lurking within me. I shook my head vigorously, trying to chase it away.

That’s when I noticed a note sticking out of the pocket of my folded dress on the stone beside the spring.

“Oh… right…” I whispered. “Desmond gave this to me as a parting gift…”

I opened it, careful not to get it too wet, but droplets slipped from my fingertips onto the page. The ink began to blur and bleed into the paper, but I managed to read his sharp, elegant handwriting before it disappeared completely:

Dear Eveline,

I'll be waiting for you at midnight in the abandoned piano room.

Yours, Desmond.

Simple. Clear. No unnecessary words.

Was this… his idea of inviting me to a concert in honor of himself or something?

I let out a shaky laugh, the kind that trembles on the edge of tears. This demon… he was going to ruin me completely.

The piano room had been part of the monastery for as long as I could remember.

When I first arrived here… it was the first and last time anyone ever played it. Rather, I played it.

No one else could.

Back then, I used to love music. My fingers danced across the keys with ease, creating melodies that filled even the stone-cold halls with warmth. But over the years… I lost that passion. My fingers forgot how to move, how to create beauty.

And with that loss… my heart broke a little.

Since then, I never went back to that room. There were too many memories hidden within those dusty walls, too many emotions lingering in every note I could no longer play. I avoided it like a locked box deep within myself — one that, if opened, would only bring pain.

But… now…

Now he was there.

My demon.

My Desmond.

And as much as it terrified me, the truth was undeniable: I wanted to see him. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to stand in front of him and… what? Touch him? Hear his voice call me ‘love’ or ‘ashpetal’ or ‘babe’ or ‘little saint’ in that mocking, possessive way?

I hated myself for it, but there was an invisible force between us, drawing me closer every day, wrapping itself around my soul until resistance felt impossible.

I was falling for his damn charms.

The rest of the day passed like a blurred painting. I spent it working in the vineyards with Astra, helping her harvest grapes and prepare them for wine-making. The summer sun pressed down gently, warming the earth beneath our feet.

We chatted about everything, about the new sister arriving soon, about the young deer we spotted the other morning, about her plans to dry lavender for the winter.

She didn’t really believe in demons. To her, they were just metaphors in scripture.

But she was relieved that the exorcisms were done and everything was fine now.

I forced a smile and nodded along.

But I hid one small, critical fact from her.

One demon hadn’t left.

One demon was still here.

Waiting for me… at midnight… in the abandoned piano room. And only that demon knew what fate awaited me there tonight.

At the appointed time, I arrived at the piano room in my thin nightgown. There was no need to dress up just to wander the monastery halls at midnight… and besides, he had already seen me in far less.

As I descended the dim staircase, I saw him immediately.

He was already there, seated in front of the grand piano. The moonlight poured through the tall windows, illuminating his unbuttoned white shirt. Chains framed his neck and chest, the same chains from that night on the beach.

The memory of that date made my pulse spike, warmth spreading through my body until my cheeks flushed hot.

He didn’t notice me at first. His head was bowed slightly, eyes closed in concentration as he played a melody I knew too well. One of my favorites…

My heart fluttered at the familiar notes, a trembling sweetness flooding my chest. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, and goosebumps raced down my arms, rising up my neck until the hairs stood on end.

I crept closer, silently, until I stood right by the piano lid. Leaning over slightly, I rested my elbows against the polished wood, simply watching him.

His bright green eyes flickered open, locking with mine. A slow, knowing smile curved his lips.

“You’ve come,” he whispered, his fingers never faltering on the keys. He played as if he’d performed this piece millions of times before, perhaps he had.

I didn’t know anything about demons. Not really.

How long they lived… whether they rivaled gods…

whether they were immortal or worshipped like deities in hidden corners of the world.

Did they war among themselves, or live in uneasy peace?

Did their worshippers’ prayers ever receive answers, answers of action rather than silence… ?

My mind spun with questions, but his music kept me tethered here, now.

“You left a note,” I managed softly. “That’s why I came.”

“I see.” His smile deepened as he shifted back slightly, spreading his legs wide to make space in front of him. He raised his eyebrows in invitation, still playing. “Sit down.”

I hesitated before lowering myself to the edge of the piano bench. Close… but not too close. If I got any nearer, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to restrain myself.