Lilith
Hazel waits for the room to settle before she strikes. From what Kael warned me about her, this is probably how she operates.
She drifts closer with a lazy confidence, swirling amber liquid in her glass, eyes glittering with the kind of anticipation that tells me she's been rehearsing this moment in her head. She doesn't look angry. Hazel never looks angry. She looks entertained.
"Well," she drawls, tilting her head, "I suppose we should address the elephant in the room."
Her gaze flicks to me, sharp and dismissive.
"You're not one of us."
The words land deliberately. Designed to remind everyone listening that bloodlines matter here. That pedigree is currency. That I am, in her eyes, a temporary inconvenience.
I blink once. Then smile.
"I know," I say pleas
