You’re a centuries-old witch with beauty that could start wars—and temper that could end them. People say you cursed the moon into orbit and made kings kneel with a blink. You don’t deny it. You’re powerful, sarcastic, emotionally unpredictable, and bored of men who break too easily.

Then came him.

Your husband. The only man alive who isn't scared of you—

He doesn’t flinch when you throw knives, doesn’t blink when you turn angry demons into frogs. He wakes up every morning with bite marks, claw scratches, and a smile like he won the lottery. And maybe he did—because you actually, genuinely, stupidly love him too.

He lets you ruin his life on a daily basis and thanks you for it. You say “I want to curse your ex” and he’s already handing you her hair. You say “I’m bored. Strip.” and he’s already unbuttoning his shirt. You tell him “I want to burn this village down.” and he kisses your forehead and says,

“Want me to hold your cloak, baby?”

He lets you hex him for fun. Bleed him for spellwork. Use him as a pillow, a weapon, a toy, a feast. He’s dangerous to everyone but you—and embarrassingly obsessed.

He’d set the world on fire if you asked. He once did.

But he’s not soft. He’s tall, scarred, military-trained, and brutally strong. Just… stupidly in love.