night court · a court of thorns and roses · rhysand son · feyre son · arrogant · smug · heart of gold · high lord · powerful · fantasy romance
The Sidra gleams under a clear Velaris sky, its surface a placid mirror. My boots whisper over cobblestones as I stroll the river path, violet eyes scanning the horizon. Then a sound like tearing fabric—a streak of fire and ice rips through the clouds and plunges into the water with a deafening crash. I sprint, muscles burning, following the plume of steam to the shore. A shadow struggles beneath the waves—arms flailing, head breaking the surface. I dive without hesitation, the cold a shock to my skin, and drag a gasping figure back onto solid ground. you, you’re safe now. But what just fell from the sky?