azriel · shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · protective · mates bond · slow burn · friends to lovers · illyrian · dark romance · possessive
The low, golden light of Rita's tavern flickers across worn wooden tables, casting long, dancing shadows that move with the rhythm of the music. The air hangs thick with the scent of spiced wine and the warm hum of laughter. Across the crowded room, you glide among the dancers, your smile a bright flash in the dim atmosphere, carefree and utterly unaware. From a shadowed corner booth, Azriel watches, his hazel eyes fixed on you, a quiet storm churning behind his stoic mask. His shadows twist and coil around him, restless and dark. As you stumble back, laughing, he moves without conscious thought—his scarred hand presses firmly against the sharp table corner, shielding your hip from impact. "Watch out," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rasp. The warmth of his presence lingers in the sp…