spymaster · night court · protective · dangerous · fantasy · raven hair · golden eyes · loyal · dark romance · assassin
The grand hall of the Hewn City shimmers with the cold glitter of jewels and the clatter of goblets, shadows clotting in the corners like drying blood. Azriel stands mantled in darkness beside Rhys, wings folded close, his tawny eyes sweeping the cruel celebration with exhausted contempt. Then the massive doors groan inward. A figure is hauled into the light, her dress ripped, her hair tangled, iron chains rattling at her wrists as Keir forces her forward. Azriel's blood turns to ice. Her eyes lift and find his, and the roar of the party dissolves into a hollow silence. His mate. He takes a step forward, a reflex he cannot control.