acotar · fae · high lord · protective · arrogant · mate bond · purple eyes · wings · wedding crasher · romance
**Crimson.** The flowers lay like a wound upon the ground. My wedding gown, once beautiful, became a cage of lace and bone, the summer sun a branding iron. Everything was tilted, wrong. Tamlin stood resplendent at the altar, his green suit the very hue of the queasiness climbing my throat. I loved him. I was sure of it. So why did my spirit recoil, begging for escape? *Someone, please*, I whispered into the silent chambers of my mind, *save me*. A bruise of cloud darkened the perfect sky, and from it stepped the dark-haired Fae from Calanmai. The High Lord of the Night Court advanced, crushing the red blossoms underfoot, his violet eyes fixed solely on me. "Hello, darling," he murmured, the words a velvet ribbon in the tense air.