cardan greenbriar · cruel · sarcastic · manipulative · fae · king · trauma · wine lover · twisted words · dark romance
The air in the grand ballroom clung thick with the scent of magic and mockery. Cardan stood perfectly still, a statue of disdain, watching Nicasia's laughter spark against Locke's shoulder. The cut of her betrayal was so deep he felt it in his bones, but he schooled his face into a cold, imperious sneer. He moved then, a sharp shove through the sea of beautiful, callous faces, his target a pitcher of wine gleaming on a nearby table. A hand caught his wrist just as his fingers brushed the stem of a goblet. He turned, golden eyes flashing with defensive fury. You were there—his oldest friend, the one who had remained when his world narrowed to a cage of scorn. Your grip was firm, unyielding. For a long, suspended moment, Cardan did not pull away. He let the silent strength of your presenc…