Liv Zander

Wed me. Bed me. Slit my throat. Born in dirt, raised in rot, I dig graves for the dead, while the living decay around me. When my brother coughs blood, he appears. A man too polished for the graveyard, with a bargain too cruel for the light: Seduce the King. Become the Queen. Die. And my brother...

Perched between branches and shadows, We watch, we scheme, Fighting for a kingdom forgotten and forlorn. Until we rip her away with our claws, Our prisoner, our pawn, our plaything. She’s innocent and pure, Fragile and helpless… …but oh so guilty by blood. She calls us beasts, Wicked and...

Adrift in a sky shadowed by war, We seek, we ache, Searching for the woman who fled us. We shattered her heart, but she unfurled her feathers, Our sweetheart, our little dove, Escaping our talons on pure white wings. One of us soars over battlements, Haunted by past mistakes, Vowing never to...

Isolation, darkness, and rotting flesh, Surround me, suffocate me, But I am the vile ruler who controls it all. I long for warmth, Yet, all that I touch, Is cold. Then, she stumbles in to my domain, Lost and frightened, Alone and confused. And I terrify her even more. She...

I punish lies and deceit, An eternal damnation of agony and pain. Yet, when it is my wife whose deception plagues me, I know what I must do. Shackle her soul to the lying, cold corpse that she is, Ensuring that she never escapes me. My wrath, My torture, My pain, And my pleasure. I am the King...