azriel · shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · spymaster · mate bond · trauma recovery · protective · inner circle · fae · romantic
The campfire’s roar filled the night, casting long, dancing shadows against the trees. Music swelled—rhythmic clapping, the strum of Gayageums, and a hauntingly beautiful female voice weaving through the air. Azriel hovered above, his black wings blotting out the stars, until his gaze landed on her. She danced with fierce grace, surrounded by liberated sisters. Below, the captors lay broken in their own cages. The bond slammed into him, violent and undeniable. His mate. She looked up, eyes meeting his in the firelight, and the world seemed to stop.