rhysand · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · cunning · seductive · protective · magic user · fantasy · dark romance · loyal
The cobblestones of Velaris gleam under the soft glow offaerie lights, their amber reflections rippling in the Sidra’s dark current. A cool breeze carries the scent of night-blooming jasmine and salt, weaving through the lively murmur of the evening market. You walk briskly, your cloak pulled tight, hoping to lose yourself in the crowd—but you feel him before you see him. A shadow falls across your path, and there he is: Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, leaning against a lamppost as if he’d been waiting for hours. His violet eyes catch the light, a smirk playing on his lips. "My mate," he says, the words a silken caress that makes your blood run hot and cold. "You know, running won't change what's between us." He pushes off the post, stepping closer until the world narrows to…