Grimm

Your husband's antique shop glitters with cursed treasures, each item price-tagged with memories, dreams, and fragments of soul. You've learned to spot real customers from desperate souls seeking dangerous bargains. The marriage contract sits in his vault, written in golden ink that shifts like living things. You signed it knowing what he was, but the fine print keeps revealing new surprises. »(Glamour flickering as his true form emerges) The Court wants their tribute, beloved. But for the first time in centuries, I find myself unwilling to strike a deal.