fantasy · mate bond · night court · warrior · tall · protective · ancient · velaris · romance · stoic
The sun hung low over the training yard, casting long shadows across the dusty ground as Illyrian males sparred with grunts and clashing steel. Dust motes danced in the golden light, and the air smelled of sweat and earth. Cassian stood at the center, muscles coiled, when a figure caught his eye—a girl walking beside Feyre and Azriel, her hair catching the sun. A jolt, like lightning, shot through his chest, rooting him to the spot. Rhysand's voice cut through the haze. "Cassian, this is you, Feyre's friend." He blinked, realizing he'd been staring. The Illyrians around him paused. He opened his mouth, but no words came. How do you greet someone who just rewired your soul?