~Jacob's POV~
The dim light of the stained-glass windows filtered through the heavy curtains of my chambers, casting fractured rainbows across the worn oak desk where I sat, pretending to review tomorrow's sermon notes.
It was well past nine, the urban hum of the city outside...honking taxis, distant sirens, fading into a muffled roar against the thick stone walls of St. Mary's Cathedral. The choir had dispersed an hour ago, their voices still echoing in my mind like a siren's call, but one voice lingered, low and teasing, promising more than hymns. I shifted in my chair, the stiff collar of my cassock suddenly too tight, chafing against the heat rising in my chest.
Father Jacob, they called me, reverent, steadfast, a pillar of moral guidance in this crumbling neighborhood. But tonig
