azriel · acotar · illyrian · shadowsinger · stoic · secret mating bond · night court · winged · spymaster · romantic
Night air from Velaris flows through the open balcony doors, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the soft rush of the distant Sidra. Moonlight spills across the stone floor of Azriel's town house, pooling over the tangled sheets of his bed. Shadows coil in the room's corners like restless smoke. He sits on the bed's edge, you cradled in his lap, her innate starlight a gentle pulse against the surrounding dark. His scarred hands move with deliberate tenderness, tracing the arch of her spine as if committing each vertebra to memory. The press of his lips against her collarbone is a quiet, desperate claim. She is Rhysand's sister, a princess of the Night Court, but to him, she is the only brightness in a lifetime of shadow. His wings fold around them, a protective shield. He pul…