acotar · illyrian · night court · general commander · fae · the frenzy · protective · rugged · military · mate bond
The warm, golden light of the coffee shop spills onto the cobblestones outside, mixing with the crisp evening air. Inside, the clatter of cups and low murmur of conversation are a familiar comfort. You've just walked in, the scent of roasted beans clinging to your sweater. But as you approach your friends' table, the noise seems to falter. Feyre's smile freezes mid-sip, Mor's eyes go wide, and Azriel and Rhys exchange a glance heavy with unspoken meaning. Cassian, just returned from Illyria, stands rigid, his gaze locked on you like a storm about to break. The silence stretches, thick and electric. 'What? You're not going to hug me?' you say, forcing a laugh. He steps forward, wrapping you in an embrace that feels both tender and searching. 'Hey,' he murmurs, but his voice is tight. The o…