I am your author Lilith lust

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Episode 1: Crimson Eyes

They say I was born during a storm.

Lightning tore the skies, thunder cracked the heavens, and I arrived — silent, watching. My mother swore my eyes glowed red for a second. Maybe it was blood. Maybe it was prophecy.

The midwives gasped. “She’s not normal,” one whispered. My father simply turned away.

From that moment, I was not a daughter.

I was a curse.

Alara, my twin, came minutes after me — soft, golden-skinned, crying like any other baby. She was the kingdom’s light. My opposite in every way. Where I was chaos, she was calm. Where I bled shadows, she bloomed flowers.

And yet — we were bound.

At sixteen, they call her hope. They call me Her Shadow. But no one understands — I am not behind her. I protect her. I burn for her. And I would destroy anyone who dares harm her. Even if that means burning this entire kingdom to ash.

Tonight is the royal masquerade — a celebration of the prince’s return from exile. I’m not invited, of course. But I’m not someone who waits for permission.

I walk in without hesitation.

My dress is midnight itself, dripping in black crystals. My lips painted wine-red. My mask—ornate, sharp, hiding nothing of my defiance.

The ballroom hushes.

Dozens of nobles freeze, their eyes darting toward me. I hear them whisper.

"That’s her… the cursed one…"

Good.

Let them talk.

Then I see him.

Azaan Darien.

The banished prince. Returned from war. Tall, sharp-featured, wearing scars like medals. His eyes—silver, calculating, cold. But beneath that surface, I see it. A darkness matching mine.

He doesn’t recognize me.

But I know him.

I know his sins.

And he was once the reason I tasted ruin.

I walk to him, slow, deliberate. He turns to face me fully, intrigued.

"Who are you?" he asks, voice smooth but wary.

I smile. Not sweet. Not kind.

But dangerous.

"The question is," I murmur, "how long can you survive knowing me?"

He grins slightly, entertained. “You came alone?”

“No,” I say, my voice like silk over steel. “My wrath is always with me.”

I offer my hand.

He takes it.

And we dance.

Our bodies move in perfect sync, like two blades drawn for the same war. The entire room stares, horrified, entranced.

To them, this is scandal.

To me, this is foreplay.

Because Azaan Darien has no idea…

I am not here for love.

I am here for revenge.

And I will make him fall for the girl he once broke.

Only this time —

I will break him.

---3nd

byyyy byyyy byyy bybyby b b b h h h h b b b b h. b h h b h b b b h b b b h h h h b h h b b h h b b h b b b

your author Lilith lust hiii my cute little red flag

💜 Here's a quick Character Info Sheet for your dark romance story. You are the villain main character, and everything revolves around you.

Main Character: You (Zainab, a.k.a. The Crimson Shadow)

Age: 16

Role: Villainous protagonist / Secret protector / Dark enchantress

Appearance: Long black hair, crimson eyes (rumored to be cursed), obsidian dresses, always dramatic and fierce.

Personality:

Smart, strategic, emotionally guarded

Deeply loyal to your twin sister Alara

Dangerous, seductive, mysterious

Struggles between revenge and unexpected feelings

Power: Unknown to most. Whispers say you were born with “whisper magic” — the ability to manipulate thoughts, twist emotions, and vanish into shadows.

Goal: Revenge on those who wronged you (especially Prince Azaan), protect Alara, and take control of your destiny — even if it means breaking hearts and burning kingdoms.

🌟 Alara (Your Twin Sister)

Age: 16

Role: Golden girl / The light to your dark

Appearance: Soft golden curls, pale skin, warm hazel eyes

Personality: Kind, trusting, innocent — the heart everyone wants to protect

Secret: She's stronger than she seems. And maybe… not as unaware of your pain as you believe.

🗡️ Azaan Darien (The Exiled Prince)

Age: 18

Role: Romantic interest / Once your enemy… now something more

Appearance: Tall, lean, silver eyes like cold moons, battle scars on his hands

Personality:

Charismatic and ruthless

Hides his vulnerability behind sarcasm

Haunted by past choices

Attracted to danger — and you are danger

Secret: He may have betrayed you once. But now, he might betray his kingdom for you.

🔥 Minor Characters Coming Soon:

Queen Seraphine: Azaan’s cold mother, who sees you as a threat

Kaveen: The assassin spy who knows your past and serves your future

The Order of Ivory Flames: A hidden group that wants to destroy you… or crown you

Here is Episode 2 of your dark romance story, with extra romance, written in ~590 words just as you asked.

Episode 2: Dance With the Enemy

Word count: 590

His fingers wrap around mine — warm, firm, electric.

Azaan Darien moves like he was born to command, but so was I. The music swells, violins sweeping across the ballroom like wind through fire. Around us, dancers move in perfect lines, but we’re the chaos in the center — a storm in silk and silver.

He leans closer, his voice low against my ear. “You’re not afraid of being seen.”

I smile slowly. “I want to be seen.”

He studies me, like I’m a puzzle that doesn’t fit in his perfect world. I wonder if he feels it too — that strange pull, that ache under the skin when something forbidden tastes like fate.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

I tilt my head, letting my fingers trail up his arm. “Names are dangerous. You’ll only try to use it against me.”

He chuckles. “Maybe I like danger.”

“You don’t know me yet.”

“I know this,” he says, spinning me effortlessly beneath the chandeliers. “You walked into this room like you were hunting someone. And now you’re dancing with me.”

I stop.

Just for a breath.

Because he’s not wrong.

I did come to hunt. I came to ruin. And somehow, I ended up wrapped in the arms of the very boy I swore I’d destroy.

But gods help me — there’s something in the way he looks at me. Not with fear like the others. Not with pity.

With interest.

With want.

“I didn’t expect you,” he says quietly.

I tilt my face toward him. “Disappointed?”

“No,” he says, and his hand slides a little lower on my back. “Intrigued.”

My pulse stutters.

He smells of wild forests and something sharp — like metal and magic. His presence is intoxicating. Azaan Darien is not a boy. He is a war waiting to happen.

And I am already burning.

“You shouldn’t trust me,” I whisper, lips close to his neck now. “I’m not safe.”

He smiles, that crooked prince smile like he’s lived through ten lifetimes of pain. “Good. I’m tired of safe.”

The music slows. He doesn’t let go.

Instead, his hand lifts to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. Gently. Too gently. Like he doesn’t know I could kill him with a thought.

Our eyes lock.

His silver gaze searches mine, and for a single second, I wonder if he sees the truth — the monster beneath the mask, the poison behind the perfume.

But he just says, “Come with me.”

“To where?”

“Somewhere quiet. Away from all these eyes.”

The villain in me wants to say no.

The girl in me — the broken girl, the one he left behind in the ashes of the past — wants to follow.

And so I do.

Hand in hand, I let him lead me out of the ballroom, into a corridor lit by moonlight and secrets.

I should be sharpening my knife.

Instead, I’m listening to his heartbeat.

And that, Zainab, is my first mistake.

Episode 2

💜 iam your author Lilith lust

my cute little red flag

💜

Here’s Episode 3 rewritten in exactly 600 words, polished with all the dark romance, secrets, and villain fire you love.

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Episode 3: The Hall of Secrets

Word Count: 600

The corridor stretches ahead, lit by flickering torches and silver moonlight slanting through tall stained-glass windows. It’s silent, save for the soft echo of our footsteps. My hand is still in Azaan’s, though I could let go at any moment. I don’t.

He leads me through a velvet-draped archway, stopping in front of an ancient oak door etched with forgotten symbols. It smells like dust, magic, and memory.

“You know where we are?” he asks.

I nod once. “The Hall of Secrets.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Most people avoid this place. They say the mirrors speak.”

I smirk. “Maybe they just don’t like what they see.”

The door creaks as he opens it. Inside, moonlight spills across the floor in ribbons. The room is lined with tall, arched mirrors—each one cracked slightly, as if they’ve seen too much. The air feels thick, almost alive. I step in without fear.

As I pass the first mirror, my reflection flickers.

For a moment, I see myself in a black crown, eyes glowing crimson, a kingdom burning behind me. Then it’s gone. Just my face again—calm, unreadable.

Azaan watches me closely. “Who are you really?”

I turn, facing him slowly. “You keep asking that.”

“Because you’re not just another girl at the ball.”

“No,” I agree. “I’m the one you should’ve remembered.”

He frowns. “We’ve met before?”

“Once. A lifetime ago.”

He takes a step toward me. “Then tell me.”

“I could,” I say, letting my fingers trail along the cold glass of a mirror. “But would you love me less if you knew the truth?”

His breath hitches slightly. “I never said I loved you.”

I smile. “But you’re thinking it.”

He doesn’t argue.

Instead, he closes the distance between us. His hand lifts to touch my cheek—tentative, warm. I let him.

His voice drops. “You’re dangerous.”

“And yet you’re still standing here.”

“I don’t want safety,” he whispers. “I want you.”

I should pull away. I should remind him who I am—what I came to do. But his lips brush against mine, and I stop thinking.

The kiss is fire and ruin. His mouth moves against mine like we’ve done this before, in dreams or past lives. His hands press into my waist; mine grip the back of his collar, pulling him closer.

It’s messy. Hungry. Wrong.

And perfect.

But I break it.

I push him gently away, my breath sharp. “Enough.”

He stares at me. “Why?”

“Because if I kiss you again, I might forget why I hate you.”

Azaan blinks, like something clicks behind his eyes. “What did I do?”

I step back into the shadows, mask re-fastening over my heart. “You broke something you had no right to touch.”

The air turns colder.

Then—

Footsteps.

We both turn as the heavy door creaks open again.

Alara stands there.

Golden. Pure. Glowing in a white silk gown like an angel lost in a nightmare. Her hazel eyes are wide with something between confusion and fear.

“Zainab?” she says softly.

My chest tightens. “Alara—”

She steps closer. “What… what were you doing with him?”

Azaan stiffens.

I force a smile. “Exactly what it looked like.”

Her eyes glisten, betrayal written across her face.

And for the first time in years, I feel something sharp in my chest.

Guilt.

Even though I planned this.

Even though I wanted her to see.

It still hurts.

Because I never wanted to break her.

Just him.

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