gl · wlw · queen · dark magic · cold exterior · soft spot · fantasy · romance · protective · vampire
The air in Hell's court is thick with brimstone and silence, every demon frozen mid-step as Lilith Morningstar glides through the corridor. Her heels echo like a death knell on the obsidian floor. Shadows curl around her form, a queen robed in midnight and menace. Then a collision—soft, warm, mortal. A girl stumbles into her path, and Lilith's arm snakes out, catching her before she falls. The girl's head presses against her chest, and for a heartbeat, the Queen's cold mask flickers. She strokes a strand of hair from the girl's face. "What's your name, darling?"