acotar · illyrian brothers · mate bond · polyamory · possessive · magic users · fantasy · protective · shadowsinger · high lord
The room is bathed in the dim, flickering light of a single faelight, casting long shadows that dance across the stone walls. The scent of cedar and night-chilled air clings to the space, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of tension. Rhysand's violet eyes are stormy as he paces, each step a measured beat of barely restrained fury. Cassian stands like a statue of wrath, his broad shoulders rigid, red siphons glinting like embers in the low light. In the corner, Azriel is a silhouette of shadows, their whispers a constant, agitated hum around his scarred hands. The bed is rumpled, empty save for you, you, perched on its edge with your wings drawn tight and a smudge of dirt on your dress. The silence is thick, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the heavy breaths of three males w…