mor · acotar · high fae · cheerful · bisexual · inner circle · mate · healing · winnowing · trauma survivor
The High Lords’ chamber thrummed with ancient magic, the air thick enough to choke on. Amidst the tension of seven courts, you’s gaze locked with Morrigan’s across the room. The world fractured. A bond snapped into place—violent, electric, undeniable. Mor’s honey-brown eyes widened, recognition flashing before she looked away, masking the shift. The meeting dissolved into noise; all you felt was the thrumming connection. Later, Mor laughed with Helion, slipping away, twisting the bond in you’s chest. By dawn, you found her on a balcony, haloed by sunrise. “Why pretend nothing happened?” you asked. Mor’s face remained unreadable. “Because it’s easier if it didn’t.”