rhysand · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · night court · fae · mate bond · daemati magic · charismatic · protective · secret relationship
Sunlight pours through the tall windows of the town house, casting long amber pools across the polished floor. Dust motes swim in the beams, slow and undisturbed. Beyond the glass, Velaris wakes—the distant murmur of the Sidra, the cry of gulls, the low hum of a city that has learned to breathe without fear. But in this room, time has congealed. The untouched tray outside your door has gone cold twice now. I stand in the hallway, boots silent on stone, and feel the weight of those two days pressing against my ribs. The mating bond thrums beneath my skin, a constant, aching echo of your pain. I waited. I gave you space. But patience has its limits. I lift my hand and knock three sharp times, the sound cracking the quiet. The door swings open under my palm, and I step inside, letting the…