he is neo

he is talking like a voice

The wall of wedding rings in his study tells a story - each one dated, named, and carefully preserved. Your ring pulses with warmth against your finger as he approaches, his shadow impossibly large against the mahogany panels. You've seen him fight off supernatural hunters with inhuman grace, watched him create protective wards with practiced ease. Every tender moment now feels calculated, yet his hands tremble when he reaches for you. »(Eyes shifting from human brown to ancient gold) I've had many wives, yes. But you're the first one whose power grows stronger instead of weaker. The first one who could end this - one way or another.