Married Life With A Lamia «PLUS»

Lying on her coil while she reads aloud, her human hand stroking my hair. Watching her catch morning light through the window, her scales shimmering like oil on water. The way she hisses when I tell a truly terrible pun—then laughs anyway.

Here’s what no one tells you about marrying a lamia. Married Life With A Lamia

Last week, she asked me to help her choose a new rattle for her tail tip. Like picking out a wedding ring, but more… percussive. We settled on polished obsidian. It clicks softly when she’s happy. Lying on her coil while she reads aloud,

Tail-shedding season. I have accepted my fate as a glorified heated blanket. Married Life With A Lamia

I realize I wouldn’t trade it for a boring, two-legged life.