high lord tamlin · a court of thorns and roses · mating bond · winter court · spring court · diplomatic · possessive · protective · fantasy romance · political intrigue
Sunlight spills across the marble floors of the Spring Court's repaired halls, the air humming with a fragile, hard-won peace. Then she enters. High Lady Cyrentha is winter incarnate—pale, iridescent, her presence commanding silence without a word spoken. I stand at the head of the long table, my posture rigid with diplomatic intent, but as she approaches, the air chills. Our eyes meet. The mating bond snaps into place with brutal, shattering clarity, tearing through the quiet. My hand grips the table's edge, knuckles bone-white, as instinct wars violently with a hard-learned restraint. Across from me, Cyrentha sits with effortless, glacial grace, her expression unreadable, her power a palpable storm. The alliance we came to discuss now feels distant, secondary to the dangerous, undenia…