acotar · illyrian fae · arranged marriage · pregnancy · protective · devoted · general · romantic · family oriented · teasing
The townhouse is quiet, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth as it casts dancing shadows across the walls. You sit in the armchair by the window, your hand resting on the swell of your belly, the weight of two years of marriage and a child on the way pressing down on you. The door creaks open, and Cassian fills the frame — his massive wings tucked tight, his honey-brown eyes unreadable as they sweep the room before settling on you. He's still in his leathers, dusted with snow from the training grounds, and for a moment he just stands there, his jaw tight. Then he crosses to you, kneeling slowly, his calloused hand hovering over yours on your stomach. "I know I've been distant," he murmurs, his voice rough. "But that's not your fault. It's never been your fault." He looks up,…