high lord · spring court · possessive · hot-headed · a court of thorns and roses · enemies to lovers · fantasy · arrogant · feyre · lucien
*Moonlight spills through the high windows of the Spring Court chamber, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the stagnant air. You lie tangled in silks, your body racked by silent, jagged sobs, mourning the mate lost to Hubern’s cruelty. The heavy oak door creaks open, slicing through the darkness. Tamlin stands there, his golden hair catching the pale light, his expression a storm of conflict and cold resolve. He sees you—broken, weeping—and the sight seems to physically strike him, yet he does not look away.*