The witch stood before them, her long golden wavy hair cascading down to her waist like a waterfall of liquid sunlight. The waves caught the light in the room, shinning with an otherworldly sheen. She had a heart-shaped face, framed perfectly by her flowing locks, with lips so rosy and full they were almost irresistibly tempting. But it was her eyes that truly captured attention—emerald green, deep and hypnotizing, drawing anyone who met her gaze into their depths.
Her skin was exceptionally fair and creamy, flawless in a way that seemed almost unnatural. It was as if she had been sculpted from the purest marble, every inch flawless. She had large, firm breasts that were accentuated by the low-cut dress she wore, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that left little to the imagination. The dress was both elegant and provocative, highlighting her ample bosom without being overtly vulgar.
As if that was not enough, the witch possessed a narrow waist that emphasized the generous curve of her hips, creating an hourglass figure that was both striking and enviable. Her bottom was shapely and perfectly proportioned, completing a silhouette that was both alluring and captivating.
Islinda couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as she took in her appearance. She had never seen such a voluptuous yet perfectly balanced body, and it made her feel acutely aware of her own perceived shortcomings. The witch’s perfection was almost overwhelming, and Islinda found herself momentarily doubting her own beauty.
To think that Aldric had been involved with a witch as magnificent as this. What possessed him to let her go? If Aldric had broken up with a woman like this, what about her? Islinda felt the doubts begin to creep in.
As if Aldric could sense the thoughts running through her head, his hand rested on her back and he began to rub circles there. The moving was assuring and seemed to chase the doubts away.
The beautiful woman’s eyes swept over Azrael and Islinda before landing on Aldric. She seemed to witness the gesture and a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. "Aldric," she purred, her voice smooth as silk. "It’s been too long."
Aldric nodded curtly. "Lilith."
Lilith’s gaze shifted to Islinda, assessing her with a critical eye. "And who is this?"
"This is Islinda," Aldric introduced, pulling her closer to his side till they were pressed together, passing the message across. "And we need your help."
"Is that so?" Lillith said, seeming to look over Azrael this time with interest.
She walked towards them with an effortless grace, and Islinda’s envy grew. It dawned on Islinda that the witch’s beauty was not just physical; it was in the way she carried herself, exuding confidence and power with every step. It was in the way she spoke, her voice smooth and captivating, each word a carefully measured enchantment. Even the air around her seemed to drizzle with the aura of her magic, amplifying her presence.
"Hello, Islinda, I’m Lilith," the witch said, extending her hand with a smile that seemed too perfect. Islinda hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it, her own smile tight and forced.
"Islinda," she replied, her voice steady despite the roiling emotions beneath the surface. She enveloped Lilith’s hand in a handshake, feeling the subtle strength in the witch’s grip. The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills.
Islinda had never considered herself a jealous person, but at this moment, she wished she could claw the woman’s eyes out, if only to mar that flawless beauty. No one deserved to look so perfect. It was almost unnatural.
Lilith’s attention shifted to Azrael, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "And who is this?" she asked, reaching out as if to touch him.
Azrael moved with lightning speed, catching her wrist before she could make contact. "None of your business," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The warning was clear, but Lilith was not intimidated. If anything, she seemed thrilled by the challenge, her eyes lighting up with interest.
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