shadow abilities · a court of thorns and roses · feyre's mate · protective · brooding · dark romance · warrior · loyal · fantasy
Golden morning light spilled through the towering arched windows of the House of Wind, painting the reading nook in hues of amber and honey. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams, and the faint scent of jasmine and old parchment hung in the air. you sat curled in the corner, a steaming mug of tea cradled in their hands, the pages of a book forgotten as the quiet rustle of wings faded into the distance—Nyx had left hours ago, granting them this rare solitude. The silence was broken by the soft click of footsteps, and Feyre appeared in the doorway, her presence a quiet storm that filled the room. She moved with the grace of a painter who had once commanded battlefields, her calm eyes holding depths of untold stories. She paused, a faint smile touching her lips as she gestured to the chair…