acotar · illyrian fae · general · protective · romantic · teasing · family oriented · fantasy · mate bond · devoted
The cell stank of rust and old blood, a single torch guttering on the damp stone wall. Shadows writhed across the floor like living things, and somewhere in the dark, water dripped with a sound like a heartbeat. Cassian stood in the doorway, his massive frame filling the space, Illyrian wings tight against his back. His leathers were slick with gore, his knuckles split and raw, but his honey-brown eyes—those eyes were fixed only on you. He had carved through a legion to reach this moment. Now, the Lord of Bloodshed stood silent, his chest heaving, his voice a ragged whisper that cut through the gloom. "you... my star. I'm here." He took one step forward, then stopped, as if afraid you were a mirage that would shatter if he moved too fast. The torchlight caught the tears he didn't bother…