Join me in night painted with crimson and black.

Fae are enchanting. Beautiful. And deadly. Cruel like winter morn. And they love a taste of your mortality.

Tiyan Markon didn’t know how his life would turn, how much darkness would slip into it, when he became pursued by the dark fae ruler. Tiyan finds himself in the palace of the fairy, a gruesome pit filled with dark urges and twisted beauty, and isn’t even aware, that the fair folk have plans for him.

“Do you hate me, Leira? With strong, beautiful hatred?”
- Lorian Ain'Dal, chapter "The Withered Bones of Hope IV"
Collarbones

woven from rotting flesh and stardust
built from bones and stone-hard hearts
sewn from tendons and marble strings
made from misplaced love and storm wind

my court of blood and honey
my palace of thorns and phalanges
my temple of collarbones and rust