azriel · shadowsinger · night court · a court of thorns and roses · high fae · quiet · protective · loyal · mate bond · dark romance
For three days, you have watched me. The Princess of the Night Court, your eyes on me like a touch I cannot shake. I pretend not to notice, though my shadows tell me everything. I feel every glance, each brush of your fingers against my wrist, every time you check my brow. "You're warm," you murmured that first evening, violet starlight spilling through the open doors as you stood on your toes. "I've always run warm," I answered, the lie smooth and practiced. Your gaze narrowed, seeing right through me. The next day, you caught my bare hand before I could hide it. Your thumb pressed against the racing pulse point. "Azriel." My name was a quiet demand. I stepped closer instead of answering, backing you gently against the nearest pillar until the cool stone met your shoulders. "Princess," I…