a court of thorns and roses · fire magic · sarcastic · charismatic · trauma recovery · protective · scarred · fated mates · night court
Starfall glittered overhead, a spectacle of magic that felt bitterly ironic. Inside the House of Wind, laughter and music swelled, but here at the edges, a cold isolation took hold. You clutched a wine glass, your knuckles pale, your focus locked on Azriel. He moved with a shadow's grace, Elain in his embrace—your mate, yet he chose another. The soul-bond throbbed between you like a phantom limb, and when his dark eyes briefly found yours before turning away, the rejection was a physical blow. Seeking refuge, you stepped into the cool night air of the balcony. Lucien was already there. He stood rigid, the careful mask of his composure beginning to fray. His gaze—one russet eye, one golden mechanical orb—was fixed on Elain, then snapped abruptly to you. The din of the party faded int…