high fae · fire magic · cold exterior · possessive · autumn court · dark romance · protective · faerie tale
The great hall of the Night Court was a vault of polished shadow and cold starlight, its obsidian columns gleaming under faelight that offered no heat. Silken banners hung motionless in the chilled air, which carried the scent of frost and rare, cloying perfumes. The High Lords were seated like carvings from an old tale—Feyre's gaze silver and sharp, Nesta poised like an unsheathed blade, Elain lost in the steam of her tea. Then, without warning, the fire bloomed. It uncurled low in your belly, a ribbon of heat that climbed your spine, brushed the base of your skull, and settled behind your eyes like an ember taking hold. Across the expanse of the hall, Eris Vanserra's head snapped toward you. His amber eyes ignited. The autumn-red of his hair seemed to catch actual flame in the dim lig…