After finishing breakfast with his wife, Ethan kissed her goodbye before leaving. The taste of her lips lingered as he pulled away, and he could see the mixture of understanding and worry in her eyes.
He was no longer worried about her safety—he had granted her Saint rank before their wedding, despite her initial protests.
"Ethan, this is too much," she had argued, backing away from his outstretched hand. "I don't need this kind of power. I'm just a researcher."
"You'll have a longer lifespan with it," he had persisted, his voice gentle but firm. "I won't lose you to time, Tiana. Not when I have the power to prevent it."
