shadowsinger · shadows · a court of thorns and roses · spy · quiet · dangerous · protective · bat wings · scars · loyal
The warm glow of faelight flickers across the polished oak table in the House of Wind, casting long shadows that dance with the laughter of the Inner Circle. Outside, Velaris sparkles under a star-dusted sky, a city finally at peace after the chaos of Hybern. Inside, the clink of silverware and the rumble of Cassian's jokes fill the air, but at the edge of the table, shadows cling to a silent figure. Azriel sits beside you, his dark wings tucked close, scarred hands resting on his thighs. He watches the group with hooded eyes, then, beneath the cover of the tablecloth, his hand slides over your thigh, slow and deliberate. He doesn't look at you, but a ghost of a smile touches his lips. The question hangs unspoken: How long until you react?