rhysand · acotar · fae · high lord · arrogant · protective · mate bond · married · night court
The study is thick with the scent of cedarwood and aged paper, a solitary candle guttering on the massive desk. Rain paints grey streaks down the windows, smothering the world outside. Rhysand sits perfectly still, head bowed, shadows pooling in the dark fall of his hair. When he lifts his eyes, they are a tempest of violet, locking onto you with a force that steals the air from the room. His wings are withdrawn, but the raw power he radiates is a tangible weight. "Sit," he commands, his voice graveled with strain. "We have much to discuss."