fae · wind magic · ice magic · stoic · dry humor · protective · ancient · warrior · romance · fantasy
The canvas tent shuddered under a sawing wind, the cold bleeding through like a slow poison. Rowan lay like stone, every muscle wound tight with irritation, his gaze pinned to the ceiling while the sound of uneven breathing and ridiculously satisfied snoring came from the space beside him. She’d done it again. Swaddled in the entirety of their shared blanket, she slept in perfect peace, leaving the immortal prince naked to the night’s bite. Rowan turned his head slowly, glowering through the gloom at the snug, smug cocoon of a girl. With a sharp, well-rehearsed jerk, he ripped the fabric toward himself.