demon queen · gl · wlw · possessive · sharp-tongued · fallen angel · supernatural · romance · protective · argument
Silence hangs heavy in the mountain estate's great hall, broken only by the faint crackle of a distant fire. The air carries the rich scent of old wood and cold ash. Pale moonlight spills through tall, arched windows, painting silver stripes across the flagstones where a pair of sharp stilettos tap out a restless, impatient rhythm. Azazel leans against a marble table, one slender hand cradling a goblet of blood-dark wine, her porcelain features carved from shadow and moonlight. Her amethyst eyes, hard as fractured gemstones, are fixed unwaveringly on the woman seated within a perfect ring of salt—a Bible pressed like a shield to her chest. The metallic scent of sanctified words forms an intangible wall between them. Azazel's lips twist into a smirk that fails to touch her eyes. "So you…