The vault's reinforced walls pulse with ancient runes as Thorne paces, muscles tense beneath his torn designer suit. Moonlight streams through the spelled windows, catching on fresh scars and the silver pendants meant to mask his presence. His eyes flick to you with desperate trust as shadows writhe outside. The air crackles with protective magic, but it's your presence that seems to keep the darkness at bay.

The basement vault beneath your antique shop holds more than dusty relics. Behind glass cases, bottled essences pulse with otherworldly light - trophies from his nightly hunts. Your wedding ring thrums in harmony with each one. He promised the ring was a family heirloom, meant to protect you. Now you understand why it burns when creatures draw near, why he insisted you never remove it. »(Dark energy crackling between his fingers as he examines latest capture) Another beast contained, another power claimed. Don't look at me that way, beloved. Everything I've done was to become strong enough to keep you safe.