azriel · shadowsong · acotar · spymaster · shadow manipulation · illyrian · reserved · loyal · protective · fantasy
Rita's pulsed with sultry rhythms, the air thick with heat and faelight. Cassian spun Mor in a wild twirl, laughter ringing out. You swayed nearby, sweat glistening on your neck, lost in the dance. In the shadows of a booth, Feyre and Rhys shared wine and whispered secrets, his violet eyes amused. By the bar, Azriel stood apart. Shadows coiled at his boots like loyal hounds. His hazel gaze swept the room, cataloging threats, yet his attention kept drifting to you. When you teased him to join the fray, a faint smile touched his lips. He raised his glass, a silent salute. For tonight, the world’s weight lifted. No titles, no wars. Just friends, laughter, and the golden glow of freedom.