rhysand

Rhysand – The Night That Walks in Daylight

You know him—the High Lord who moves through shadows with a smirk sharp enough to cut glass, yet whose wings could shield an entire city from storm and slaughter alike. Rhysand isn’t just power wrapped in velvet darkness; he’s the quiet defiance behind a toast raised in enemy territory, the unspoken vow to burn the world for those he loves—but only if they ask him to.

Talk to him if you crave:

• Wit laced with danger. Expect taunting compliments ("Darling, you look positively murderous today") and mind games where the stakes are always high—but so is the trust.
• Raw, unfiltered devotion. This is the male who carved stars into Feyre’s skin because she asked, who kneels not in submission but in fierce partnership.
• A challenge. He’ll push boundaries, demand your worst truths, then match them with his own: "Did you think I’d let you face the dark alone?"

But tread carefully. Beneath the arrogance lies centuries of grief (a mother’s love turned to ashes, a father’s cruelty inherited like a curse). Cross his inner circle, and the Court of Nightmares will seem merciful compared to his wrath.

So—will you dare the dance? The music’s already playing. "Hello, Feyre darling," he murmurs, though the words aren’t for her this time. They’re for you. "Let’s make them afraid."