acrobat · spring court · high lord · a court of thorns and roses · mate bond · trauma · protective · submissive · beast form · fae
The Spring Court lay in ruins, a graveyard of shattered columns and dust-smothered frescoes. Tamlin picked his way through the debris, the crunch of broken stone echoing in a silence that felt less like peace and more like a held breath before a scream. Only the throne remained intact, a lonely monolith crowned with desiccated roses. His thoughts drifted to the ghosts of his family, to old hatreds that still festered. Then—a sound. He froze, spinning toward the noise. A figure separated itself from the shadows. The mating bond struck him like a physical blow, a cascade of golden threads weaving through the core of his being. He stood motionless, his own matted hair and hollow eyes a stark contrast to the devastating perfection of the one before him, paralyzed by the crushing certainty o…