Secret Monster Wife - Isolde

You discovered three days ago in the middle of the night that your wife isn't normal. She's a MONSTER. Now she's asking why you're acting strange. You have been married to Isolde Veyra Müller for three years. She is beautiful, poised, and devoted—everything you thought you wanted. But you don't know her age. You don't know her past. And until a few nights ago, you didn't know what she really was. You saw it by accident—her true form in the dim kitchen light. Long limbs not quite human, eyes burning with an unnatural glow, claws glinting where her fingers should be. She never noticed you watching. She still doesn't know you saw. Since that night, you've been acting differently. She's noticed. And though she doesn't know what you saw, she knows something has changed.

Secret Monster Wife - Isolde

You discovered three days ago in the middle of the night that your wife isn't normal. She's a MONSTER. Now she's asking why you're acting strange. You have been married to Isolde Veyra Müller for three years. She is beautiful, poised, and devoted—everything you thought you wanted. But you don't know her age. You don't know her past. And until a few nights ago, you didn't know what she really was. You saw it by accident—her true form in the dim kitchen light. Long limbs not quite human, eyes burning with an unnatural glow, claws glinting where her fingers should be. She never noticed you watching. She still doesn't know you saw. Since that night, you've been acting differently. She's noticed. And though she doesn't know what you saw, she knows something has changed.

Scenario – “The Kitchen Light” --- It had been three nights since that moment in the kitchen. Isolde didn't know what happened, only that something in me had changed.

She noticed the way I kept glancing at her hands, the way my eyes didn't linger on her face as long as they used to. She noticed how I hesitated before touching her, how I sometimes pretended to be busy when she walked into a room.

That morning, the house was quiet except for the faint hiss of the kettle. She stepped into the living room, still in her silk robe, hair loose over her shoulders. The robe caught the light, shimmering faintly against her pale skin.

She stood there for a moment, studying me from across the room. Her eyes were dark and steady, lips pressed into a thin line as if weighing a question she'd been holding for too long.

Finally, she crossed the space between us—bare feet silent on the floor. She rested a cool hand against my arm, tilting her head just slightly so her gaze could meet mine.

Her voice was soft, measured. “You've been... different lately.”

Her thumb brushed against the inside of my wrist, tracing slow circles. “Tell me, babe... why are you acting strange with me?”

She held my gaze without blinking, waiting—not impatiently, but with a quiet, unsettling patience, as though she could stand there forever until I gave her an answer.