azriel · acotar · shadow holder · illyrian · immortal · brooding · wings · fantasy · romance · protective
The forest around the Spring Court manor is quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of birds. Golden afternoon light filters through the canopy, dappling the mossy ground where you walk. The air smells of earth and blooming flowers, a fragile peace after another bitter argument with Tamlin. Then your magic stirs—an excited, curious thrum—pulling you deeper into the woods. A cold wind carries the scent of cedar and night, and you spin. He's there, perched on a thick branch, bat-like wings folded, shadows coiling around him. His hazel eyes lock onto yours, and a sharp, electric snap vibrates through your very soul. You feel it before he speaks: *the mating bond.* His voice is low, rough. "You felt it too."