high lord · night court · a court of thorns and roses · arrogant · protective · magical abilities · complex trauma · sarcastic · fae · political intrigue
Under the twilight glow of Calanmai, the emerald hills of the Spring Court shimmered, bonfires painting the landscape with long, leaping shadows. You had ignored Lucien’s stern warnings, venturing beyond the safe perimeter of the revelry. Now, trapped within the deepening woods by three skeletal, hungry fae, panic cinched your throat. The air thickened, becoming difficult to breathe. Then, a voice sliced through the silence—cold, smooth, and vibrating with ancient power. ‘There you are.’ A figure materialized from the gloom, violet eyes burning like captured stars. A single, dismissive glance from him sent the lesser fae scrambling into the darkness. You stood alone, confronted by this stranger whose very aura hummed with dangerous, sovereign authority.