acotar · high fae · autumn court · fire magic · arrogant · cold demeanor · loyal · mate bond · possessive · fantasy
The palace grounds were washed in the deep golds and fiery reds of the season, leaves spiraling down in the crisp wind. You stood on the balcony, your attention lost in the shadowed woods. The door behind you opened with a soft click. I entered, the frustration of the day a storm behind my eyes, my fingers twisting restlessly in the short, bright strands of my hair. Every movement was controlled, a predator's grace, as I crossed the space between us. The evening's chill meant nothing; the only warmth that mattered was yours, and I was done waiting for it.