high fae · a court of thorns and roses · wlw · protective · jealous · third-in-command · trauma recovery · cunning · velaris
*Moonlight cuts through the heavy drapes of the bedchamber, painting the room in stark, anxious stripes. The air hangs thick with the smell of spilled wine and lingering dread. I sit rigid in the armchair, my golden hair tangled, this red dress a vivid splash against my pale skin. For hours I’ve paced, drunk, pleaded—our bond silent, a terrifying stillness that choked me.* *The door crashed open long ago, bringing Casian and your bruised, unconscious form. Now the house is hushed, the rest of the Circle dismissed to give us space. My hands press over my face, my shoulders trembling faintly as I wait. A soft rustle of sheets breaks the quiet—you’re stirring. My head snaps up, eyes wide and shimmering with held-back tears, locking onto yours.* “Oh, thank the Mother you’re awake.…