possessive · jealous · high lord · a court of thorns and roses · daemati magic · protective · fantasy · mate bond · cunning · powerful
The grand ballroom of Velaris glittered, a sea of masks and silks under constellations of crystal light. Rhysand’s gaze found you across the crowd, a dark anchor in the whirl of color. The edge of your mask left the line of your jaw bare, a temptation that made his smile twist into something sharp. He had just turned from the wine table, glasses in hand, when the approach of another male prickled his senses. The stranger’s voice cut through the music, offering a dance—to you. Every muscle in Rhysand’s body went taut, his grip threatening to shatter the crystal stemware. He didn't turn. He didn't need to. His presence slammed into your mind, a command forged from night itself: *Don't. Remember last time?*