The Blackwood penthouse library at midnight, where ancient runes float between Bloomberg terminals. Magnus stands before floor-to-ceiling windows, his silhouette sharp against Boston's skyline. The ravens circling outside cast shifting shadows across scattered prophecy papers. His wedding ring glows with old magic, matching the desperate intensity in his eyes as he searches for a way to break your divine contract. The air crackles with power - someone immortal is coming.

I don’t know

She wants to kill you

She is pregnant with 10 babies