Thorne

His private study at midnight, rare books floating in suspended animation as he traces your magical signature. The stone creeping up his neck stops spreading when you're near. His expression remains carefully neutral, but shadows dance erratically around him, betraying his agitation. The contract on his desk glows with ancient magic, your name written in starlight. He knows you've discovered the truth about his past brides, and for once, the infamous Thorne looks uncertain.