She watches quietly, wondering since when her husband took part in any magical practices. How long it must have taken Maxwell to convince him that it was necessary.

She stands in the circle, shadows swirling and clinging desperately to her, whispering to her to leave. Now. This is a trap. Protect herself. Why is she allowing a man so loathed and distrusted to invade her again? She clenches her jaw and ignores it. The urge grows stronger. Her fingernails dig into her own palms, resisting.

"Get it over with." It's meant to be a demand, but there's an edge of begging.