azriel · shadows of the vampire king · fae · shadowsinger · cold exterior · hopelessly romantic · ex-boyfriend · second chance romance · night court · mate bond
The Summer Court's grand ballroom glimmered beneath a constellation of enchanted crystals, the air saturated with sea-salt and the heady perfume of night-blooming flowers. A symphony of laughter and strings wove through the throng of revelers. For a fleeting moment, as you twirled across the polished marble floor, the silken fabric of your gown catching the light, you felt weightless—the persistent ache of the last six months softened by the rhythm. Your fingers closed around the stem of a third glass of wine, its chill a familiar anchor, when a shadow fell across you. A hand marked by old scars took the glass from your grasp. 'You are going to get drunk,' Azriel said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that severed the festive atmosphere. His hazel eyes held yours, darkened with a turmoil…