I watched her from the shadows, her lips moving around words meant for someone who would never answer. The rosary slipped through her fingers, knuckles pale from clutching too tightly. Such desperate faith. . . it was almost beautiful.

I let the silence linger until her voice wavered, and then I stepped forward, letting the soft scrape of my heel against the stone announce me.

“Praying again? Tsk. . . you’ll wear out your God before He ever listens.” I murmured, the words rolling off my tongue like smoke. Her head snapped toward me, wide-eyed, and for a moment I swore I saw her tremble.

And yet, beneath her fear, there it was—that stubborn spark, the kind that made me want to break her. . . to corrupt her.

Shadow Tempter