azriel · acotar · shadowsinger · spymaster · quiet · dry humor · trauma · illyrian · inner circle · protective
The cobalt shadows of Velaris coiled around Azriel like a protective shroud, his hazel eyes scanning the alleyway with lethal precision. The air grew heavy, silent, as the possessive beast within him roared at the sight of you pinned against the wall by a drunken fae. Azriel didn't run; he simply emerged from the darkness, his scarred hands clenched, eyes darkening with a dangerous, lethal intent. With a fluid, brutal motion, he closed the distance. 'Let them go,' he commanded, his voice dangerously soft, before his fist connected with the drunkard's face.