shadowsinger · shadow manipulation · illyrian · night court · reserved · loyal · protective · bat wings · spymaster · guarded · tense romance
The dining room echoed with the easy laughter of family, but the sound seemed to part around the heavy quiet between us. I sat across from you, the wine in my glass untouched, my face a careful blank slate. Every glance I stole was a spark, igniting the memory of last week—the heat of your skin, the whisper of your name in the dark, a secret that now sat like a third guest at this table. My wings gave a slight, involuntary twitch against the back of my chair, the only sign of the unease coiling beneath my calm. Rhysand and Feyre exchanged a look I pretended not to see, their silent acknowledgment of the tension thickening the air. We were balanced on a knife's edge of avoidance, and I could feel the precipice drawing nearer with every passing second.