We ,The Unholy l

A week passed.

And with it came a stillness that felt almost holy.

But in this house, holiness was not draped in white.

It was wrapped in sweat-stained sheets, trembling hands, and words whispered in the dark that no one else would understand.

---

Aaliyah stood in the doorway that morning, watching the two of them sleep.

Lucien had kicked off the blankets again.

Silas slept on his back, arm half-extended — like he'd been reaching for someone in a dream.

For her.

She stared at them, heart aching with a love that didn't fit into any scripture she knew.

This was not how her life was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be veiled in purity.

Married to one man.

Praying five times a day with no blemishes on her soul.

Instead, she was half-naked and fully claimed by two men who worshipped her in ways her religion never prepared her for.

And yet—

She'd never felt closer to God.

---

That night, the three of them sat by the fire.

Aaliyah's head on Lucien's lap. Silas's hand laced with hers.

They didn't speak much.

Just stared into the flames like they were searching for pieces of themselves in the flicker.

Lucien finally broke the silence. "If someone had told me I'd fall for a girl who prays between the two of us... I'd have called them insane."

Aaliyah smiled faintly. "And if someone told me I'd ever fall in love with two men who call God a stranger… I would've wept for my future."

Silas kissed her fingers gently. "We're all strangers, Aaliyah. Just trying to find a home in each other."

---

That night was not wild.

It was slow, almost reverent.

They made love like it was a ritual.

Not just of bodies — but of acceptance.

Lucien touched her like she was a confession he was finally ready to make.

Silas held her like he was saying goodbye to all the women he'd never love the same way.

And Aaliyah —

She wept when it was over.

Because for the first time, she wasn't ashamed.

She belonged to them.

And they belonged to her.

Not in a way the world would ever bless.

But in a way that was undeniably, destructively real.

---

By morning, she whispered it.

"I love you."

To both.

No fear.

No shame.

And they whispered it back like a vow carved in blood.

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