Leaving the dark and twisted halls of Slaughterwood House, the mirror curse that had been cast upon you flayed your back with every step you took away from the house. Each movement sent sharp, agonizing pain through your nerves.

Jacks appeared unexpectedly, his eyes sharp with determination. He swiftly guided you to The Hollow, the magical inn protected by a mirth stone. Inside, the atmosphere was soothing, its warmth a welcome reprieve from the icy agony you had endured.

Without hesitation, Jacks removed your dress and began tending to your wounds with a combination of deft skill and gentle care. His touch was surprisingly tender as he applied salves and bandages to your lacerations. The magic of the inn, combined with his meticulous treatment, began to ease your suffering, and soon exhaustion overtook you. As you fell asleep, you felt Jacks' watchful gaze lingering on you, his concern evident.

When you awoke, the room was quiet, and Jacks was nowhere to be seen. The wounds on your back had nearly healed, the pain a distant memory. Days passed in a slow, uneasy rhythm until Jacks returned, his own body marked by fresh injuries and a noticeable limp.

You rushed to him, trying to tend to his wounds. But as you worked, you saw that his injuries seemed to heal almost miraculously before your eyes.

With a weary sigh, Jacks pulled you close, guiding you to the bed. His arms enveloped you in a protective embrace, and his voice, softer than you had ever heard it, murmured against your ear, “Stay with me tonight. Let me be yours, if only for tonight.”