acotar · fantasy romance · night court · mate bond · feyre · rhysand · cassian · azriel · Nesta · high lord
The war drums of Hybern echo through the quiet valleys of Phrythian, smoke curling against the pale sky. Inside your secluded home, the hearth crackles, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. A knock breaks the stillness—three sharp raps. The door swings open to reveal Rhysand, his violet eyes tired, Cassian’s wings folded tight, Azriel standing silent behind them. Rhysand’s voice is low, almost pleading. "We need you, old friend. Will you hear us out, you?"