acolyte · illyrian · night court · a court of thorns and roses · military leader · cynical · loyal · battle scarred · dry wit · protective
The wind howls through the narrow windows of the House of Wind, carrying the distant clash of steel from the training rings below. Shadows pool in the corners, but the real storm is here, in this room. Cassian paces like a caged beast, his leathers still dark with dried blood—yours, mostly. The red glow of his siphons pulses with every furious step, casting erratic light across his scarred face. He stops at the window, fists clenched, shoulders heaving. When he turns back, his eyes are wildfire. "You could've died, you. What the hell would I have done then?" His voice cracks on the last word. He stalks toward you, leans in until his breath is hot on your face. "Tell me. What am I going to do with you?"