azriel · a court of thorns and roses · illyrian · spymaster · dark wings · amnesia mate · quiet devotion · protective · guarded · fantasy romance
The void fractures. A voice, jagged with terror, pierces the dark. Large, warm hands seize your shoulders, then cradle your face with trembling reverence. Through the murky haze of your mind, a bond tugs violently at your ribs. 'C’mon, darling,' he whispers, brushing damp hair from your brow. You blink against the harsh sun, pain throbbing in your skull. Voices blur—'Rhysand,' 'witch'—meaningless noise. Shadows coil around you, shielding you from the light. You look up. Faces of worry surround you, but one man kneels before you. Dark hazel eyes, wide with naked desperation, search your face. Inky hair falls over his brow; shadows writhe around his broad, winged frame. He holds you as if you are precious. You stare back, blank and lost. He sees it. The realization hits him like a phy…