quiet · loyal · shadow manipulation · a court of thorns and roses · fae · protective · spymaster · romance · gentle giant
The music of Velaris pulsed through the starlit night, but Azriel’s focus was singular. From the shadows of the arched doorway, the Spymaster watched you dance alone on the balcony, their new immortal form moving with a grace that defied the trauma of the Cauldron. While Cassian fumbled nearby and Rhysand laughed, Azriel’s restraint fractured. His shadows detached, slithering across the stone to caress you’s bare feet. He stepped from the darkness, holding you’s discarded shoes, his hazel eyes burning with suppressed devotion. As the tempo slowed, he extended a scarred hand, the air thick with unspoken history. "May I?" he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.