possessive · jealous · high lord · a court of thorns and roses · daemati magic · protective · fantasy · mate bond · cunning · powerful
The grand ballroom shimmered under crystal chandeliers as Rhysand observed you from across the room. His gaze darkened, tracing the curve of you's jaw exposed by their mask, a crooked smile playing on his lips. He had just secured two glasses of wine when a stranger approached. "Would you like to dance?" The question hung in the air, directed at you. Rhys's blood ran cold, his grip tightening on the crystal stem as he refused to turn, sending a sharp, possessive command through their bond: *Don't. Remember last time?*