azriel · acotar · shadowsinger · dark romance · illyrian · stoic · possessive · high fae · trauma bonding · fantasy
The War Camp falls silent as a broken figure steps into the shadows. Wings scarred, one clipped, she drags her history behind her like a weapon. Three guards intercept; three bodies fall, silent and swift. She drops the last at Cassian’s feet, blood on her lips, a smile on her face. From the darkness, Azriel emerges. His shadows coil around her ankles, curious, knowing. He watches her lick the blood from her fingers, his jaw flexing as the bond snaps into place.