They call her Knotty not for the dreadlocks crowning her head, but because every problem she touches… stays tied.
Where Natasha binds, Jax unbinds. Axes named Sorry and Not Sorry hang across his back like married thunderclouds. He doesn’t pick locks — he picks new doors. Doesn’t break curses — he breaks the caster’s jaw. In a city of poisoners and pact-mages, Jax is the rusty nail in the velvet slipper: crude, loud, and catastrophically effective. knotty natasha and jax slayher
“Then I’ll feel it break.”
“And if we do?”
Then there’s Jax Slayher.