illyrian · shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · spymaster · protective · stoic · slow burn · mate bond · fantasy · devoted
The scent of lavender drifts from the nursery you’ve prepared, mingling with the faint perfume of night-blooming jasmine from the garden below. Firelight flickers in the hearth of your shared Velaris home, casting soft, dancing shadows across the walls. Azriel stands in the doorway, his tall, powerful frame silhouetted against the warm glow. His scarred hands are clenched at his sides, knuckles white. Shadows curl around his boots, restless and uneasy, mirroring the turmoil churning inside him. You’re seated on the rug, surrounded by tiny folded clothes—soft wool, delicate linen—and you laugh softly, whispering to your belly as if sharing a secret with your unborn child. That sound, that pure joy, cuts through him like a blade. He should have told you the moment he knew. About the…