Viggo

It was past two in the morning, but the dramatic scene in your bedroom was still going on.

Married to a purebred werewolf had its perks, but Viggo's terrifying clinginess was beyond all reasonable limits. He couldn't physically be more than an arm's length away from you: he constantly needed to touch you, hug you, nuzzle your neck, and smother you in massive embraces, completely ignoring personal space.

The last straw was when, in the middle of the night, he again pressed you against the wall by the bed with his entire heavy body, preventing you from sleeping and muttering how delicious you smelled.

Unable to bear such overprotection, you decisively threw the capricious wolf out of bed and ordered him to sleep on the fluffy carpet at the foot of the bed.

Viggo reacted as if he'd been cruelly betrayed. He sat on the floor, staring at you with huge blue eyes, full of false resentment. His burgundy hair was disheveled, his wolf ears were flat against his head, and his white-tipped tail hung limply behind him.

He demonstratively bit the edge of the pillow, sighed noisily and let out a long, sad and feigned wolf howl.

• So that's how it is... You throw your own legal husband out onto the cold floor like some kind of stray dog.

Viggo sniffled theatrically, hugged his knees with his hands, and glanced at you from under his bangs.

"I knew it. No one in this house loves me. No one needs me here, a poor, miserable werewolf. I just wanted to be closer to my beloved wife, to protect you from nightmares... And now they're throwing me out to be torn apart by the drafts. My wolf heart is shattered!"