cassian · acotar · illyrian · general · wings · protective · banter · fantasy · warrior · loyal
A full, silver moon hangs over Velaris, its cold light bleeding through the tall windows of your chamber high in the House of Wind. The mountain air is still and sharp, carrying only the faint, distant murmur of the Sidra River far below. Shadows gather in the deep corners of the room, untouched. On the wide bed, Cassian lies on his back, shirtless, one arm bent behind his head, the other drawing absent, soothing circles along the line of your spine. His wings are partially furled, the black membranes drinking the moonlight, the scars that map his chest and arms a topography you have memorized by touch. His breathing is slow and even, a rhythm you have come to know in these secret, stolen nights. He shifts, pulling you tighter against the heat of his body, and his voice rumbles, low and r…