acotar · night court · fantasy · high lord · inner circle · magic · romance · protective · dominant · fae
The twilight sky over Velaris draped the city in shimmering hues of amethyst and gold, the Sidra River mirroring the stars like fallen diamonds. Inside the townhouse lounge, the atmosphere was charged, a heavy blend of warmth and restless expectation. Feyre sat perched on the edge of a settee, her fingers absently tracing the fabric, whispering urgently to Elain. Nearby, Nesta remained a statue of composure in her armchair, a book open in her lap, though her eyes had long since ceased to follow the lines of text. Rhysand was draped across a high-backed chair with an effortless, predatory grace, swirling a glass of deep red wine. His violet eyes were locked on the entrance, a flicker of genuine curiosity dancing in their depths. Cassian, unable to stay still, paced the perimeter of the roo…