Next day

Onyx takes me out for a walk in Dire Wolf City during the day. Precisely: in the late morning. You know when the sun went up? Yeah. That part of the day.

God knows what got into my Lycan King. But he insisted firmly and resolutely that we would go on such an excursion into the blinding rays of light from the sun.

Not even with the pack. Or the whores for companionship.

It was just... him and I. Together. Like, on a real date or something.

It's... um... it's a little concerning? But I go along with it.

I'm sleep deprived, like always, but well fucked and relaxed in that sense. Onyx fucked like a demon always. Anyway – we already knew that...

Onyx and I haven't even taken a ride out into the city. Rather, we walk through the morning crowd, while everyone is out eating brunch.

Onyx hasn't told me our final destination, or any destination. It could be anywhere, I truly have no clue. There was no dress code, other than whatever I wanted. So I wore a long yellow summer dress, while Oswald wore his priest uniform, walking along with his hands in his pockets. Looking tidy. Hair slicked back. Clean shaven.

Heheh?

Eventually my holier-than-thou and hotter-than-hell companion stops by a shopfront, and I dare look at the contents of the shop. A witches breakfast club? No. A demon dildo store? No.

It's a florist.

Oswald looks rather proud, he glances from what's offered in the windows, to my expression.

"You want to buy me flowers?" I ask the obvious, gulping down my nervous saliva.

"Choose anything you want," Oswald speaks so humanely, so polite and so controlled.

I don't question his motives. Instead I quickly walk past him into the shop, to have a look at what's on offer.

Call me old fashioned – or just plain brain-numb from lack of sleep – but I pick up a bunch of fresh red roses.

I smell them deeply, and satisfied with my choice, I look to Priest Oswald, who has tailed me into the shop. He tilts his head in approval, hands deep in his pockets as he pulls out his wallet and strolls up to the counter to pay for the roses.

We don't say a word to each other, I just enjoy the rare moment of his sweet human nature shining through.

When they're gift wrapped and handed over, I hold them close to my chest and walk out, grasping them like a lifeline to sanity.

This was so far the strangest morning of my life.

Oswald and I stroll down the sidewalk together, and I'm very curious what he has planned for us now. He strolls closer to me, leans down and asks me, as a coffee shop approaches, "Would you like... cows milk or whatever?"

"You mean a latte?" I ask.

"Yeah, that thing humans are addicted to," Oswald tries not to raise a snarling lip to the line of innocents waiting for take away morning coffee.

"Uh – um. Maybe just some water," I shrug, "My throat is always dry, I'm always thirsty. I forget to drink water. It can't be good for my brain."

Oswald hesitates, keeps in his nasty, vile thoughts – and actually approaches the open take out window for water.

I stand back in fascination and awe as he buys a water bottle, and comes back to me with exactly what I requested.

"You are something else when you're human," I whisper to him, "You're very sweet," we turn to keep walking, and Oswald has found an unoccupied bench on the sidewalk. We take a seat together, so I can drink the water, while he asks me, "Is there anything else you'd like?"

I gulp down half to almost all the bottle of water in a matter of three seconds. Oswald fails to comment.

I put the bottle aside and tell my husband, straight, "I like you like this, but in all honesty, I'm terrified – because I don't know what you're doing, acting like this," I look him over, "Thank you for the roses – and the sunlight... there is nothing else I need that I can think of... but what is it, that you want... Oswald..." I ask him carefully, hoping for an honest response.

"You wanted to be a nun?" Oswald finally addresses the issue, "Why don't we just baptise you instead?"

I blink.

I blink again.

I blink three times – then I remember to breathe.

"I don't know if it'll work," I narrow my eyes, "Besides..." should I state the obvious?

"I'm serious," Oswald holds my eye, not wavering on the subject, "You should repent for your sins – there's too many."

"...that's because I'm your wh..." I cut myself off, I don't say it in public, although I almost do, as my eyes bulge with questions, "Oswald. You did this to me –" now he lets off a dangerous, sexy smirk – with all the smug red fires of hell burning away in his haughty evil eyes.

"I believe in freedom for my whores," Oswald only says it so boldly when there is a break in foot traffic and no one is walking past, "You've been free to choose anything other than us. You never had to enter the club. You never had to come back. You never had to marry me. You came back, again and again..."

"Ahuh. Well. This is old news. You're losing me on your Lycan logic, babe – why do you want me to get baptised again?" I hiss under my breath, "...are you fucking insane?"

"God welcomes everyone," Oswald embraces his Priestly soul, and he almost makes me entirely believe the performance in his genuity and passion, "It'll save your soul."

"Maybe I like being damned –"

"Even I'm not damned, well... mostly... however, you can certainly be saved," Oswald counters, "Why do you think I'm a fucking priest, for fun, Silvia? It's because I am a man too. You're talking to the man. Not the Lycan."

"Then, oh man, you must be nuts," I shake my head, inhaling a large breath just to sigh it out in exasperation, "...you want to baptise me with holy fucking water, so my soul isn't damned... okay... sure... why not... I guess?"

Oswald puts a hand on my knee, not clenching, but lightly touching, "There's no need for words, just bathing in the holy water. It'll be quick. Will you come with me, to my church? They expect me on Fridays. I've set up a session for us... awhile back."

"Did you forget to take off your ring today? You broke the laws and got married... anyway this is fucking stupid... but okay... answering you as the man you are – yes. Why not. I'll do it?" I'm still unsure but I'm trying to make him happy, and I see no harm in agreeing.

Oswald lifts his hand to my face, and his finger tickles along my cheek, "There's no harm in some saving grace, Silvia," the more he speaks, the more I realise he's being... very... fucking... serious about this.

I search his stubborn eyes. I thought there was going to be a catch or a twist to his suggestion – but this is not a joke to him. His eyes blaze with the light of a godly man. Nevertheless, it's hard to register his holy ideas.

"Nothing's going to save me..." I pick up the bottle and I finish it off, tossing it into the trash, and I admit, "I drank all that water and I'm still thirsty. However, despite my body's perceived defiance to absorb water, I have had a lovely morning, Onyx – I mean Oswald. Thank you. So ah... what are we... gonna do now?" I give him a knowing look, even with his hand on my knee – and the strange looks from passers-by, there is no acknowledgement of their judgement.

"I have one last surprise for you this morning, Silvia," Oswald drawls, without giving anything away in his eyes or expression, which is only steely with neutrality. Oswald grabs my hand, intertwines our fingers together and pulls me back up. We walk down the street of shops, and he stops outside a jeweller, "Wait here," his hand slips off my back and pats down my dress over the curve of my ass, as he hops inside to fetch something.

I wait at the window with my roses.

As Oswald talks to the girl behind the counter inside, I turn around and see a familiar face approaching me down the sidewalk.

Cleo is out and about – after getting some sleep, she is now dressed well in a white dress and white high heels. She is walking with two Lycan guards protecting her. Magnus on her left, Jet on her right. They are both dressed up to kill. Why are they all looking so formal?

The Lycan guards linger back as Cleo approaches me with a yellow gerbera, holding the stem, she meets my eye and holds it out. The yellow petals have a dusting of gold.

"Silvia," Cleo waits for me to take it.

I like that it matches my dress. I take it hesitantly and give her a half smile.

"What's this for?" I ask.

"Luck," Cleo explains, "I dusted it with fairy love. I am so sorry Carmen is gone, because Anubis is – well – he's a little mean sometimes... I wanted to stay with him but he kicked me out... I didn't mean to... I didn't mean for that to happen last night..."

"It's fine. Onyx says you're welcome," I remind her, "You have our protection."

"You will meet her again," Cleo promises me, "In the future. I know it."

"Oh I know I will," I agree, "So why are you three out and about?"

"We're heading to St. Michael's Cathedral," Cleo furrows her brows, "You weren't told?"

"Well apparently I'm getting baptised," I whisper, raising a twitching brow, "...is that the occasion?"

"Apparently we all are," Cleo whispers back, looking around her to see if anyone is listening, "All the Lycan whores. All of us."

I feel suspicious of this now, what could Onyx mean by planning this event, having his Lycans come out in the sunlight – going to church – and to his service I presume?

The door jangles and opens behind me, while Magnus and Jet quickly usher Cleo forward – as the three of them head towards the cathedral. I wave Cleo off, and I place her gerbera in with the roses.

I turn to Oswald, I look at his hand.

He holds the cross on a chain in his hand.

Before I can even respond to it, my husband steps behind me to lay the cross over my neck, clasping the tiny mechanism at the back of the chain.

As he does so, I say, "...so we're all getting saved today? Does that mean we'll go to heaven if we die?"

"Yup," Oswald expects me to react badly to this – and of course I do.

I spin back to Oswald, stepping back and looking him up and down as I finally realise why he hid this day from me.

"The day I die, I don't want to go to heaven," I whisper, "I want to be with you in hell."

"Every day on Earth, is already being in hell with me," Oswald shakes his head, stepping forward and stroking his knuckles along my defiant cheek, across my jaw and down the side of my neck, "I want you to experience peace at the end – whenever your time comes."

"That's dark," I say it through grit teeth, "What if I enjoy not having peace?"

"I don't give a fuck what you think you want," Oswald lets out the Lycan's snarl, just for a second, "Because you'll not burn with me."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask, quietly as more people walk by.

I want his truthful answer.

Oswald looks at me like I'm stupid, and his red eyes well with tears of passion, "Because I love you. And I will protect you in every way I can," with those words, I touch the cross on my chest with renewed anxiety, and I don't know what to say, I just look up at his emotion filled eyes and I know he speaks the truth, "Besides," Oswald breathes more steadily, "While you are alive, I'll do everything in my power to keep you alive."

"It's just funny you know? Funny, when we first met, I thought there was a part of you that couldn't wait to devour me. Being a virgin. The perfect sacrifice for a demon pack of Lycans, ha – and now I'm a Queen. No part of you, still wants to eat me?" I ask, truly morbidly curious.

"No part of me," Oswald answers me so seriously, with no trace of humour, getting closer to my lips, reading my eyes furiously, "Wants that."

"So Lycans do have souls," I whisper, "What can you do to repent?"

"I try all the time," Oswald pulls back before he is tempted to kiss me and bite me, and instead he looks down the street, "Why else do you think I'm a priest... for a joke?" he glares at me, while touching his priest' collar with pride, "This isn't a joke to me – this is real to me. And I love what I do."

"So. The man in you is a priest, and the demon in you is a... demon," I try to keep in my amused smile, "I love you, Priest Oswald. You're hot. And I think you are my saving grace –"

"God will be," Oswald scolds me, looking intensely at the cross on my chest, he puts his hand on my back and ushers me along. As we head off, we're now moving toward St. Michael's Cathedral.

"Why did you keep it a secret from me?" I ask as we cross the road together, "Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to baptise me earlier? Did you think I'd say no or something?"

"I didn't want you to underestimate my intention," Oswald murmurs it, while staring ahead toward the Cathedral.

"I have never underestimated your intentions, babe," I try not to roll my eyes, "But I did... I guess I did underestimate your devotion to being... holy..." my voice box closes up and I try very hard not to laugh, because I know he's being serious now, I just... I just, so little, see the man in him, that I am far more used to the Lycan King who doesn't think twice when slaughtering an innocent to cast a satanic spell, or recruiting sluts into his fucking Lycan harem!!!

I purse my lips so very hard together.

The same man was about to guarantee me entry to heaven.

At least, when I was dead.

One day.

I guess that was love.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Oswald asks me, his hand clenching on my hip, sensing my funny thoughts and probably scared I've lost some respect for him.

"I'm thinking you're bloody impressive, Oswald," I look at him sideways, "And I would be honored to have you throw some holy water onto my face. Head."

"Good, and afterwards we'll celebrate," Oswald now gives me a lusty look, "And I get to fuck a godly woman. God... I can't wait."

He is excited, flashing his bright white teeth.

I grin, "Neither can I."

Oswald picks the yellow gerbera from my roses, then appraises the flower Cleo gifted to me.

"Are you being nice to her, Silvia?" he asks me.

"Yes," I snatch it back from him, "Stop asking, fuck. You're so an–"

In response, Oswald threads his fingers through my long blonde hair, running his hand over my scalp, petting his Queen but also trying to release his frustration, "Don't start that smart mouth with me, bitch. Lost that fucking attitude, just because I'm a man. I'm saving your black soul today – so you can smile, nod and be nice to me about it. And if you have nothing nice to say – say nothing at all."

Oh my fuck! And look who's talking!?! I have to squish my eyes together and really purse my lips hard again at that.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fucking asshole meant every word of it too.

I just couldn't take it. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Oswald continues to pet me aggressively as we walk through the garden leading up to the Cathedral, enjoying my freshly soft and washed hair this morning. His Favoured Whore.

Jesus Christ.

This sexy ass priest was about to baptise my ass, and fuck me half to death afterwards for the celebration. And he was scolding me about manners and kind words.

How else was I meant to react?

I guess I just needed to remember to breathe.

I let out the largest breath I've ever inhaled in my life, a breath I had been holding in for some time – and it comes out shaky and all fucked up, in a withered demented laugh that was determined to make birth and be heard even for a second. I try my best to hide that it did, indeed, escape. I try to disguise it as a cough into my bunch of roses. I cough loud!

Oswald heard me.

He heard the wheezing coverup attempt, over an obviously amused, hysterical laugh – clearly I was struggling not to make it any louder. And yet... here we go...

"Are you laughing, Silvia?" Oswald asks so nicely and professionally, as he takes his hand from my hair, and he steps away from me to look over me better. I meet his eyes, and my own sparkle with the mischief of my true feelings toward all this.

"No," I lie to his face, "...no, no," I repeat myself and I've also answered too quickly and so I look away, giving away the lie and showing my truth. I bite my bottom lip and chew on it a bit, and he doesn't take his eyes off me, wanting the truth, "...maybe?" I concede quietly.

"Maybe...? Maybe you deserve to burn in hell," Oswald's admonishment bites hard, and I look at him with true shock, as he shakes his head in disapproval, just a bit, while his eyes devour me with intent to punish me later, "...if you laugh when I baptise you – you'll humiliate me and my intent. Take this ritual seriously, Silvia. This is to cleanse your soul. I'm trying."

Says the demon who fed me Lycan demon seed for breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight and witching-hour tea.

But still, the man in him means it.

A priest. Of God.

I shut my lips.

When I force on a frown for Oswald, pretending that I am reflecting on and subsequently regretting my bad behaviour, Onyx lets out a totally demonic all-knowing smile because of how I try so damn hard to please him despite everything.

I see him, Onyx lighting up in his ravaging and cruel eyes, shining through his sharp white bright teeth, and as I look the tall giant man over, my throat is as dry as a bone. When I reach for Onyx's hand, touching his skin; he's burning fucking hot. I clasp his hellishly hot hand tightly, before he can pull away.

"I'll do anything for you, Onyx. You hold my soul captive, I am yours to do with as you please – I trust you, my Lycan King," I whisper to him, my truth – and the fire abruptly dies down in his eyes, well, just a smidgen. He's satisfied with that, because I mean it with all my heart.

Oswald leans in and kisses my temple, scraping his fangs along my head gently in a friendly Lycan bite. He also clasps my hand back and brings it into his suit pants, under his belt, under his underwear – over his hot dick, pulsing and aching.

"Be good, my Lycan Queen," Oswald promises me, "And you'll get fucked by the pack of eight afterwards... and you'll have more power... only if you don't fucking laugh. Being a man forces me to be patient, but I swear, if we were back in hell, you'd have demon seed leaking out of your fucking ears by now, I'd fuck you that hard just to remind you. You're nothing, Silvia, but an obedient little slut-pup to your demon master. Do you understand? You are nothing but warm, moist holes to me, you're used so I am satiated – and God will thank you for your sacrifice – without you, I'd be on a killing spree in this city, but you keep me focused on you, and that is why you're a Queen and a whore and a beautiful and loving wife... you haunt me, Silvia, you truly do," Onyx's eyes seer through mine, and soften at the end. I lean up and peck the corner of his cruel mouth quickly to show him I hear him and I know.

I'm blushing madly, but I also understand him completely.

Fine! I was going through with this. Because it was only one holy ritual. What could go wrong? I just had to go through with it, and get through with it, with him.

I'd keep my mouth shut. I'd bathe in the holy water.