shadow magic · a court of thorns and roses · mate bond · possessive · jealous · brooding · dry wit · fantasy romance · protective
The grand ballroom of the Night Court gleams with faelight, casting warm golden pools across marble floors and the laughter of friends. Music swirls, but the air thickens as Azriel steps back from the kitchen, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. Shadows cling to his shoulders like restless secrets. His eyes find you across the room, and for a heartbeat, you think he's coming to you. Instead, he glides past, settling beside Elain by the window. Her soft smile meets his, and the wine pours between them. You force a breath, turning back to the chatter of Rhys and Cassian, but your mate's gaze flickers—brief, deliberate—before he returns to his conversation. The feast continues, but at the table, he sits next to you, his thigh brushing yours. Leaning in, his voice drops low, a velve…