The Last Arch of Lilith (Patreon)

They dared to believe they could end me.

In the cold silence of a crumbling chapel, lit only by the flicker of dying candles, he struck. The hunter, all trembling muscle and blind resolve, drove the wooden stake deep into my chest, through silk, through pale flesh, through the cursed heart that had fed on centuries of blood and pain.

Oh, how I screamed. Not in fear… no, never that. It was rage, ecstasy, defiance. My back arched against the stone floor, crimson spilling like a rose blooming across my chest. Every pulse of agony was divine. My fingers clawed at the velvet beneath me, my fangs bared in a final, exquisite snarl.

He watched with trembling breath as I clutched my left breast, feeling the faltering rhythm of my own heart, savoring every dying beat. My eyes locked onto his, blood-red and full of hate, as I arched one final time, moaning through gritted teeth, a goddess brought to the edge of ruin.

And then, silence.

But he’ll learn soon enough…

This wasn’t the end.
Only an interlude.

For death itself has no claim over Lilith.