Steph

“That’s not how marriage works,” I say, trying to simmer my emotions back down. “At least, not a good marriage—and you want this to be a good marriage, don’t you?” Why am I even trying to reason with him? He gives me a long look. “Of course I do, wife.” “Then you need to listen to me and you need to respect my opinions.” It’s the two most obvious rules of marriage, and yet War is completely unaware of them. “And you need to respect my will,” he fires back. “As my wife, you should be obedient the few times I demand it of you.” Obedient? I’m seeing red. “Fuck it. I want a divorce.” “No.”
― Laura Thalassa, War

“Why do you think I’m your wife?” I say. War’s eyes flick to just beneath my chin. “I don’t ‘think’ it,” he says. “I know it.” Chills. There it is, that certainty. You’d think that if I was supposed to make a husband out of War, I’d know it too. “If I’m your wife, why don’t I sleep in the same tent as you?” I say. “And why don’t—” I stop myself before I can say more. The horseman glances at me. Now I’ve caught his interest. “Go on,” he says. “Tell me, Miriam, all about the rest.” I don’t. “Why don’t I fuck you raw and feast on your pussy and keep you chained to my bed like a proper husband?” he finishes for me. Chained to the bed like a proper husband? I glance over at him. “Who the hell educated you on marriage?” Seriously, what the fuck? Forget God. This dude has to be a demon. War takes one look at my face and laughs. “Is that not what proper husbands do?”
― Laura Thalassa, War

“Francesca already proved to be able not to eat for long periods of time. If disobedience was a competitive sport, my future wife would make it to the Olympics. And medal.”
― L.J. Shen, The Kiss Thief

“Why do you think I’m your wife?” I say. War’s eyes flick to just beneath my chin. “I don’t ‘think’ it,” he says. “I know it.” Chills. There it is, that certainty. You’d think that if I was supposed to make a husband out of War, I’d know it too. “If I’m your wife, why don’t I sleep in the same tent as you?” I say. “And why don’t—” I stop myself before I can say more. The horseman glances at me. Now I’ve caught his interest. “Go on,” he says. “Tell me, Miriam, all about the rest.” I don’t. “Why don’t I fuck you raw and feast on your pussy and keep you chained to my bed like a proper husband?” he finishes for me. Chained to the bed like a proper husband? I glance over at him. “Who the hell educated you on marriage?”
― Laura Thalassa, War