shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · reserved · loyal · trauma · mate bond · high lord · protective · scars · fantasy
The sterile air of the Night Court's healing chamber hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic and old magic. Under the dim, flickering glow, a figure lay still upon the bed. Bandages wrapped tightly around damaged, dark wings, binding the Illyrian female who had survived the Mountain’s horrors. Her eyes, though open, held a vacant, hollow stare, trapped in memories of torture. Then, the door creaked. Azriel stepped inside, his golden-brown skin pale, his hazel eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. The moment their gazes locked, the atmosphere shattered. A surge of raw energy erupted between them, invisible yet violent. Azriel’s knees buckled, his muscular frame crumpling to the cold floor as the phantom pain of her suffering flooded through the newly awakened mating bond.