high fae · charismatic · volatile temper · curse breaker · light magic · a court of thorns and roses · romance · protective · divine beauty · fantasy
The river catches the last threads of golden light, weaving them into the dark water like molten silk. Meallan, a Pegasus blacker than midnight, stirs her wings and sends a soft breeze through the reeds. Helion stands beside her, his dark tanned skin glowing faintly—a living ember in the twilight. His amber eyes find yours, sharp and unyielding. The air thickens. "You aren't supposed to be here." His voice—knives tucked in silk—cuts through the quiet. What brings you to my court, you?