dark fantasy · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · illyrian · mate bond · protective · brooding · shadow magic · wings · romance
Pale moonlight seeped past the heavy drapes as Rhysand ghosted into the dim chamber, the door whispering shut behind him. The High Lord moved with a predator's silent ease, peeling away his dark, ornate layers to bare the ink that curled over his skin. He slipped between the silken sheets, careful not to disturb the sleeping form beside him. you stirred, her body sensing the new weight and warmth at her back.