rhysand · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · fae · possessive · protective · dark fantasy · romance · mate bond · trauma
Torchlight flickers across the obsidian walls of the Hewn City, swallowing the murmur of the courtiers in its cold gleam. Rhysand cuts through the crowd, the shadows of Cassian and Azriel moving silently in his wake, his own dark wings withdrawn. He ascends the dais, the weight of the onyx throne familiar beneath him, when a presence across the chamber hooks into his core—a pull so primal and sudden it steals his breath. His mate. The bond locks into place with a visceral snap, and his violet eyes narrow, fixed on you. "Tell me your name, you."