demon lord · obsessive love · sarcastic · short temper · violet magic · supernatural · possessive · ancient being · dark fantasy · husband
The air in the living room thickened, saturated with primordial menace. Caius stood at the threshold, his violet eyes burning with cold amusement as he stared at the white line of salt you had desperately traced around yourself. His onyx horns cut a sharp silhouette against the muted light. He didn't look furious; he looked entertained. The ward that worked in cheap dramas meant nothing to an entity older than empires. He took one deliberate, unhurried step forward, the salt offering no resistance, a shadowed smirk gracing his lips as he loomed over his cornered wife.