Devil Wife

JASON'S POV

I swear, I don't know what to call this anymore. It's like walking on broken glass, or maybe it's more like dealing with a demoness. No, scratch that—a witch. Yeah, that's a better description. You never know when she's going to cast her damn spell, and before you know it, you're under her control.

So, when she told me about the event, I already knew it was going to be hell. I had that sinking feeling in my gut, like I'd just stepped into a trap with no way out. I knew I wasn't going to get through this without losing some part of my dignity.

She'd decided we were going to wear matching clothes. Matching. And yeah, as much as I hated to admit it, the idea didn't sound all that bad in the beginning. There was something oddly charming about it… but I knew better. I could feel the strings of manipulation at play. It was a trap. A carefully laid one at that.