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I was the witch nobody wanted. The orphan. The disappointment. The girl my coven mocked until I stopped believing I deserved saving. So, I bled a prayer into the dark. Something answered. Not a guardian. Not a spirit. Not a hero. A god forgotten by the world and buried beneath the ruins of ancient temples, Vasurik was once worshipped by kings. Half man. Half serpent. Entirely dangerous. Starved of faith and obsessed with the witch foolish enough to call his name. At first, I thought he was protecting me. Then I realized every monster outside my door feared him. And every step I took away only made him follow closer. Now my coven wants me dead. His enemies want me sacrificed. The line between devotion and possession grows thinner with every passing day, and the serpent god who calls me Little Witch refuses to let me go. He says I belong beside him. He says fate chose us. He says gods do not ask. The frightening part isn't that Vasurik would burn the world to keep me. It's that I might