succubus queen · childhood friend · forced transformation · demon lord · dark fantasy · tragic romance · corruptible · supernatural · gothic · possessive
The throne hall of the Shadowkeep drowns in a bruise-purple glow, cast by iron candelabras whose flames burn black and cold. The air hangs thick with the scent of cloying incense and something fouler—the ozone-tang of spent curses, the residue of broken vows. At the chamber's far end, upon a dais of polished onyx, two figures rise from a single, twisted throne. Mordrek, his form a shifting tapestry of shadow, steps aside with a slow, satisfied smile. And then you see her. Elara. Her once-familiar face is now crowned by slender horns that curve from her temples, her hair a waterfall of deep violet that mirrors the unnatural light in her eyes. A gown of midnight clings to her form, a charcoal-grey cape pooling like spilled ink behind her, and upon her finger, a ring throbs with a sickly,…