CHAPTER EIGHTEEN : AT HELL’S BEHEST

Lilith walked into the throne room awaited by Father, sitting on the throne. Her mother, Astrid was beside him, along with the Elders of Terror. She stood before them after following a long line of loud chants from the demons of the underworld. Abaddon nodded, signaling her enthronement. A crown was placed on her head as she bled, her blood spilling to the ground as a symbol of sacrifice, standing before her kind.

A loud cry proceeded from the army of demons, proclaiming her claim to the throne. Abaddon arose, leading his daughter to her rightful throne- A sit at his right hand.

Lilith sat like a queen, brewing up the eternal flames as the celebration continued. Fulfilling her duty as queen, she kept every distraction out of sight. The thoughts of Damien eluded her mind as she taught herself to move past love. The last words he said to her creeped into her heart like soft echoes, reassuring her broken self that "it will be alright."

The lilies sprung into season as months unfolded into years. Gradually the world was coming into meaning, and scars became nothing but memories for Damien. Time moved slowly as his heart seemed unable to recover from the poison ivy of love that stung it.

He wanted desperately to fill his heart, but the fear of losing his bittersweet memories gripped his heart. He wanted a change, but couldn't get himself to embrace it. At frequent sunsets, he strolled down the streets, silently hoping to find an image of Lilith lurking around the corners. He walked to the forest where they met, holding onto the memories he had of her.

It had been three years, and his heart refused to heal. The lingering thoughts of her surfaced in his mind.

In the underworld, Lilith thrived under her rule, focused on her responsibilities. She proved capable, dealing with matters with fierce judgment in honor of her father. Yet in her heart lay a deep blandness, yearning for the slightest flame of love.

She sat on her throne, her mind racing in all directions as the thoughts of Damien came flooding through. It had been a few long years, but it seemed to her like an eternity. She paced around her throne, longing for a glance at his rare presence.

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The day slowly retired for rest as the sun set on the east side. Damien walked into the bar, wanting to relieve himself of the worries that weighed on his heart. He sat on the bar stool, the sleeves of his blue shirt neatly folded up over his hands, exposing his masculine physique.

Drowning himself in a shot of whiskey, to block out the noise. "Two shots of tequila!" a female voice ordered. Damien's eyes lit up as he dared not to turn. Disbelieving his ears as Lilith's voice echoed in his ears. He didn't want to get mixed up in his fantasy, yet he desperately wanted the voice to be hers.

Mustering up his courage, as their eyes met, Lilith smirking back at him. He wanted to yell at her. Telling her how lost he had been since her absence, yet his heart fluttered like one beholding the rare sight of a priceless jewel. Sitting still for seconds. Trying to comprehend the fact that Lilith was here- standing before him.

The last words she spoke, whistled in his ears the night she left. Resting in his heart as he reached out to feel her chin.