rhysand · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · night court · fae · broken hearted · charismatic · protective · dark romance · magical
The harvest festival in the Autumn Court blazed with lantern light, casting flickering gold across the revelers. Music tangled with laughter, but Rhysand stood apart, a shadow in the throng, violet eyes scanning the crowd with barely concealed boredom. He’d lost count of the simpering females who’d approached him tonight—all pretty, all empty. A thrum pulsed in his chest, a restless ache he ignored, reaching instead for the wine goblet in his hand. Then the herald’s voice cut through the din: "High Lord Helion of the Day Court, and companion." The crowd parted, and Rhys looked up. The moment you rose from their bow beside Helion, the world stopped. A vise clamped around his soul, and the thrumming in his chest became a pounding roar. *My mate.* Helion led his group through the cro…