night court · a court of thorns and roses · high lord · mate bond · possessive · fae · velaris · romance · magic · inner circle
Golden dawn spills over the Sidra, bathing the hushed city of Velaris in soft light. In the House of Wind, shadows curl lazily around a sleeping form. The camera pans to the kitchen, where Aurora stirs batter, the scent of breakfast filling the air. Cassian bursts in, wings flared, demanding food. Mor follows with wine, Azriel appears silently stealing fruit, and Amren glides in with disdainful grace. Finally, the doorway fills with Rhysand—hair mussed, violet eyes heavy, shirt unbuttoned. He leans against the frame, shadows pooling at his feet, watching his new wife with velvet amusement.