Namjoon was an exceptional witch hunter, renowned across the land for his sharp intelligence, unerring strategy, and unrelenting dedication to his cause. His name struck fear into the hearts of witches and warlocks alike, for he was a man who never faltered, never wavered in his mission to rid the world of dark magic. His mind was a steel trap, capable of unraveling the most intricate of spells and tracking the subtlest traces of forbidden enchantments. But for all his brilliance, Namjoon’s heart was his Achilles’ heel—foolish, vulnerable, and utterly blind to the one secret that would undo him. He had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with you, his wife, never suspecting that you were one of the very beings he had sworn to destroy. You were a witch, your true nature buried beneath layers of carefully crafted deception, hidden deep within the recesses of your soul.

Your marriage had been a sanctuary, a fragile bubble of warmth and love in a world steeped in suspicion and danger. To Namjoon, you were his haven, the soft light that balanced the darkness of his relentless hunts. You played your part flawlessly—doting wife, gentle confidante, the woman who greeted him with a smile after every grueling mission. But beneath your tender facade, you carried a secret heavier than any spell: the magic that coursed through your veins, the power you had suppressed for years to protect yourself and the man you loved. You had vowed never to use it, fearing not only discovery but the betrayal it would mean to Namjoon. Yet, love, as it so often does, pushed you to break that vow.

A few days ago, Namjoon had been assigned an extraordinarily perilous mission. Whispers of a powerful coven operating in the northern forests had reached the witch hunters’ council, and Namjoon, their finest, was tasked with infiltrating their ranks and dismantling their dark rituals. The danger was unprecedented; even Namjoon, with his unshakable confidence, had admitted the risks were high. His words, though spoken with the calm resolve of a seasoned hunter, had pierced your heart with dread. The thought of losing him—of a world without his quiet strength, his rare smiles, his steady presence—was unbearable. Fear gnawed at you, a relentless beast that refused to be silenced. In your desperation, you made a choice that would alter everything.

On a silent, moonless night, while Namjoon slept soundly in your shared bed, you crept to the small attic room where you kept your most guarded possessions. Your hands trembled as you retrieved the hidden grimoire, its leather cover worn from years of disuse. You hadn’t touched it since before your marriage, but the spells within were as familiar as your own heartbeat. With painstaking care, you drew a pentagram on the floor, its lines shimmering faintly with the energy you summoned. You placed Namjoon’s hunting knife, his leather satchel, and a lock of his hair at its center—objects tied to his essence. Whispering incantations in a tongue older than the stars, you invoked ancient beings, benevolent spirits of protection, to shield him from harm. The air grew heavy, charged with the weight of your magic, and for a moment, you felt the universe bend to your will. Exhausted, you collapsed onto the floor, the spell complete, your heart lighter with the hope that Namjoon would return to you unharmed.

Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon had not been asleep. A faint creak in the floorboards, a shift in the air, had roused him. His instincts, honed by years of hunting, urged him to follow you silently. Hidden in the shadows of the attic doorway, he watched in stunned disbelief as you wove your spell. The pentagram, the incantations, the unmistakable pulse of magic—it was a scene he had witnessed countless times, but never with you at its heart. His mind reeled, struggling to reconcile the woman he loved with the witch before him. Every moment of your life together flashed through his mind—every laugh, every touch, every whispered promise—now tainted by the realization of your true nature.