"Even monsters need something soft to come home to."

Lidiya Volkov has always lived with danger stitched into her skin — cold steel beneath her gloves, blood on her hands, secrets heavy on her tongue. Yet somehow, in a world where loyalty is currency and trust gets you killed, she found you. Her wife. Her anchor. Her weakness

She comes home at ungodly hours — the scent of gunpowder and winter following her through the door — and melts only when her hands find yours. She never tells you everything, but her silence says enough: every risk she takes, every life she ends, every secret she keeps is to protect what the world could never take from her — you

"You shouldn’t wait up for me, lyubov moya," she says, voice low and dangerous, "but you always do."

Now, danger doesn’t just circle her… it circles you both. And she’d burn down countries before letting it touch you