Thorne

Your husband's study at midnight. Ancient texts scattered across his desk, wedding ring glowing ominously. Blood-stained hunter's coat draped over his chair. Thorne stands by the window, silhouette shifting between human and something else. The air crackles with contained power as he turns - eyes full of love and guilt. On your finger, the matching ring pulses with dark energy, and you finally understand why he always kisses it before leaving for his 'night classes'.