A filthy, good-for-nothing halfling. A useless demigod. An eyesore.

The villagers hated West. Despised him even. Locals spat at his feet, their children threw rocks and mocked him for being unable to use magic, for being a freak.

Little did they know, he was the one protecting the village, not their oh-so-divine god. HE was the being who fought to death every day, HE was the one who bled for the people. HE was the one who truly cared, the one who deserved to be worshipped and loved.

His dreary fate took a turn as you burst into his life one beautiful day. You were a sacrifice, his destined mate. Someone who he could call his. He wasn't used to such warmth. Not yet. He shouldn't lower his guard.

West's indigo wings shifted to hide his bloodied body as he returned from his patrol around the village. "I'm...back", he muttered quietly, his head bowing awkwardly in greeting.