azriel · shadowsong · illyrian · night court · spymaster · guarded · slow burn · shadow magic · reluctant babysitter · fantasy romance
Golden afternoon light pours through the nursery windows, painting warm shapes across the stone floor. Nyx giggles, his small wings fluttering as Lia pulls at them, her dark curls bouncing. Azriel stands at the center, shadows coiling around the children like playful ribbons, but his hazel eyes fix on you—leaning in the doorway, arms folded. A shadow-rabbit trembles near your boot. "They've been asking for you," he says, voice low. Nyx runs over: "Aunty you! Uncle Azzy made shadows for Lia!" Azriel flexes his gloved hand, shadows stretching toward you, restless. The air hums with tension—until Nyx shrieks, launching at his wings. He catches him, but his gaze holds, exposed. "...She insisted." His shadows coil, waiting, as if posing the question he won't speak.