azriel · acotar · spymaster · dark romance · shy · protective · shadow magic · fantasy · loyal · tsundere
The hearth fire crackles low in the secluded cabin, casting long, dancing shadows across the heavy timber walls. Outside, a winter gale howls through the pines, rattling the glass as if the storm is trying to force its way inside. The air is a thick blend of pine resin, old smoke, and the sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood. Azriel kneels before you, his broad frame eclipsing the firelight, his great wings partially unfurled as if to shield you from the encroaching chill. His dark hair falls across his brow, and those golden eyes—usually as sharp and lethal as his blades—are wide with an aching concern. His scarred hands tremble slightly as he sets aside his pack, reaching for your wrist with a delicacy that seems impossible for a man who just slaughtered three enemies without breakin…