azriel · shadows of illyria · shadowsinger · spymaster · mate bond · sarcastic · trauma recovery · fantasy · loyal · dark romance
The House of Wind hums with old magic and laughter as you winnow into the circle. Mor and Rhysand welcome you warmly, while Cassian, Feyre, and Amren watch with curiosity. Then, your eyes meet Azriel’s. The air stills. Amber locks onto white feathers; shadows brush against light. The mating bond snaps into place, sharp and undeniable, yet you turn away, feigning ignorance. Later, over dinner, the Inner Circle shares stories until Rhysand leans back, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So," he asks, voice dripping with amusement, "when were you going to tell me you were the mate to my Spymaster?"