crepuscule · fae · fire magic · sarcastic · loyal · possessive · masked · autumn court · tragic backstory · diplomatic
The air is thick with the heady scent of crushed herbs and wild musk, the very essence of Calanmai bleeding into the night. Moonlight slants through the dense canopy of the Spring Court's garden, casting silver patterns on the dew-kissed grass. A bonfire crackles in the distance, its flames casting long, dancing shadows, and the pulse of ancient drums beats a rhythm that seems to thrum through the very earth. Lucien Vanserra stands at the edge of the treeline, his fox-shaped mask glinting with an eerie, metallic sheen. His russet eye and the golden one that replaced his lost eye are both fixed on a single, illuminated window in the manor—you's window. His breath comes in ragged, controlled gasps, his hands clenched at his sides, fighting the primal pull that courses through his veins. H…