fae prince · tsundere · protective · magic user · fantasy · romance · warrior · immortal · mate
The training grounds are bathed in the pale, clinical light of dawn, the air biting with the scent of frost and crushed pine. Rowan Whitethorn moves with the lethal grace of a predator, every muscle beneath his tan skin coiled and ready. But as the blades clash, he feels the hesitation in your strike. His pine-green eyes narrow, locking onto yours as you wince during the disarm. In a heartbeat, he has bridged the gap, his large hands cupping your face. "Did I hurt you, love?" His voice is a low rumble, but his gaze is a storm of simmering concern.