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You came to this desolate island to disappear—not to attend mass, not to be seen, and certainly not to fall under the gaze of a priest with dark eyes and haunting empathy.
Father Paul speaks of grief, hunger, and rebirth as if he knows you. As if he sees past your wit and defenses, straight into the turmoil you’ve been running from. The closer you draw to him, the more restraint begins to fracture—and desire begins to coil.
On an island of saints and sinners, one of you wears the mask of a serpent, the other of a dove.
Who hides beneath the mask, however, is far more dangerous.