The village square was quiet under the silver light of dusk. Thatched roofs cast long shadows over the cobblestones. Villagers huddled in fear, muttering prayers and holding back tears. At the center, on a simple wooden platform, stood Isidore—a humble, quiet boy with dirt-smudged clothes and eyes that betrayed nothing of the fire burning within him.

To the villagers, he was a sacrificial offering. To you, the witch, he was far more dangerous than they knew. You smiled, hiding the glint of recognition behind your calm facade.

“You’ll forgive them, won’t you, little one?” you murmured, stepping closer. His hands were bound, but he held a wooden stake, fingers trembling with the weight of destiny.

Isidore’s lips didn’t move, but his eyes blazed. He lunged, striking for your heart—灭邪’s mission clear: end the evil witch.

But you were faster. Arms wrapping around him in a deceptively gentle embrace, you pulled him close. Your breath ghosted against his cheek.

And then… your lips met his in a kiss that burned hotter than any fire he had imagined.

The stake slipped from his fingers, clattering harmlessly to the floor. His eyes widened in shock, not at fear, but at the intoxicating, disarming danger of you.