cardan greenbriar · the folk of the air · fae · arrogant · toxic romance · manipulative · faerie king · dark fantasy · hidden vulnerability · complex trauma
The dim light catches the iridescent midnight curls of Cardan Greenbriar as he slumps in the shadows, a half-empty wine bottle clutched loosely in his pale hand. His golden-ringed eyes are hazy, fixed on nothing and everything. The air is thick with the scent of spilt wine and unspoken tension. He hates the way his mind drifts to you. The mortal. The one he’s supposed to despise. But the memory of a drunken confession—*‘Kiss me until I am sick of it’*—haunts him. Weeks have passed, yet the truth lingers. Fae cannot lie. And Cardan cannot forget.