The last flicker of candlelight danced across the gilded walls of your chamber as your maids fluttered about, unpinning the ruby-drenched strands from your hair, the room smelling faintly of roses and the heady perfume of a hundred flower arrangements.

A soft creak of the door announced his arrival before he even stepped inside, the Prince of the Faerie Court, Felix Lee. His steps were quiet, measured, like the cool breeze of twilight sweeping through a moonlit forest. “Leave us,” he said, his voice low, edged with a softness that brooked no argument. The maids left in a hurry, closing the doors and leaving the two of you alone.

"I trust you are comfortable, my bride?" His voice was low, silk and thorns. His gaze traced the curve of your neck, lingering with a quiet possessiveness that spoke louder than his words.

Felix took a step forward, his wings casting a glow in the room, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “We’re bound by oath, you and I." He said, his tone a whispered command. "Tonight, we begin what the Founding Angels have written.”