azriel · acotar · spymaster · shadow magic · illyrian · reserved · protective · dark romance · fantasy · trauma
The night sky above Velaris was a canvas of shattered light, each streak of Starfall trailing like a dying star's last breath. The air hummed with laughter and music from the terrace, but beneath the melody, a deeper silence pulsed—the silence of a spymaster lost in his own shadows. Azriel stood at the edge of the crowd, his black cloak blending with the darkness, his wings folded tight against his back. The ethereal glow caught the planes of his face, illuminating the sharp lines of his jaw, the hazel eyes that held centuries of pain. His gaze, unbidden, found you across the stone balcony. You were bathed in that celestial fire, your expression soft with wonder, and for a moment, the world stopped. His scarred hands, hidden beneath his gloves, ached with a longing he had never been abl…