Chapter 9: A Violated Soul
The first thing Seraphina felt was pain.
A deep, aching pain that spread through her entire body. She tried to move, but her limbs were heavy, weighed down by exhaustion she couldn't explain.
Her head pounded. Her throat was dry. Something was wrong. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps as she forced herself up. And that's when she saw it.
Blood.
Her stomach dropped. The white sheets beneath her were stained crimson. Her hands trembled as she touched her bare skin—her nightdress was gone.
She wasn't wearing anything. A choked sob rose in her throat. No. No. No.
Her heart pounded wildly as she grabbed the blanket, pulling it tightly around herself. Her gaze darted across the room, her mind screaming for an explanation. Her eyes landed on the other bed.
Damien. He was still asleep.
Seraphina stumbled out of bed, her legs shaking. She nearly fell but grabbed the wooden chair for support.
Her breath was coming too fast. Her mind raced. What happened? Who did this? She rushed to the door, gripping the handle—locked.
Terror surged through her veins. There was no sign of forced entry. Which meant—
Seraphina's blood ran cold. Slowly, she turned. Her eyes locked onto Damien's sleeping form.
The priest. The man she trusted. The man who told her she was special. A sickening realization crept into her bones.
It was him.
A wave of disgust and rage crashed over her. Her fingers curled into fists as she stormed toward his bed.
"Father Damien!"
Her voice came out broken, a mixture of anger and agony. He stirred, groaning softly before his eyes fluttered open.
He blinked in confusion before looking up at her. "Seraphina?"
Her fury erupted.
"What did you do to me?!"
Damien frowned, sitting up. "What?"
Seraphina pointed at the bed, her body trembling. "Look! Look at what you did!"
His gaze followed her shaking hand. For a moment—just a brief moment—his face remained blank.
Then, a flicker of something crossed his features. Guilt.
But it was gone too fast.
Instead, he sighed and rubbed his face. "Seraphina, listen—"
"Don't say my name!" She stepped back as if his words could taint her. "You—you—" Her voice cracked.
"I trusted you."
Damien stood up slowly. His movements were too calm. Too calculated.
Seraphina flinched when he took a step toward her.
"Seraphina, think carefully." His voice was gentle, but there was something behind it.
Something cold.
"You have no proof."
The words hit her like a slap. She stared at him, her breath hitching. Her hands tightened around the blanket as the reality of his words sank in.
No proof. No witnesses. No way to prove what he had done.
Damien knew it.
And the worst part? He was right.
His expression softened, almost as if he pitied her.
"No one will believe you."
Seraphina's stomach churned.
"You're lying." Her voice shook, but she refused to break. "They'll believe me."
Damien tilted his head, watching her with that same unreadable gaze.
"Who, Seraphina?" His lips curled into a mocking smile. "The convent? The Church? The same people who think you're an angel?"
He took another step forward.
Seraphina's back hit the wall.
"They'll protect me."
His voice was so sure. So calm. So dangerous.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to tear the whole world apart. But instead— She just stood there. Frozen. Trapped.
Damien adjusted his robe, running a hand through his hair before heading to the door. He unlocked it. Paused.
Then glanced back at her. His next words destroyed her.
"You're still coming with me to the village, right?"
And with that— He walked out.
Leaving Seraphina shattered.