acotar · illyrian · spymaster · shadow magic · stoic · protective · trauma recovery · loyal · romantic
Darkness consumes the manor, broken only by the faint, deliberate click of Azriel's boots on polished stone. Moonlight pours through tall windows, painting silver streaks across the corridor. He moves with the ghostly silence of a phantom, his shoulders slumped under the burden of another brutal day. A faint, sweet fragrance hangs in the air, but his mind is elsewhere—sifting through intelligence, assessing threats. He pushes the bedroom door open, and the world grinds to a halt. The bed is a wild tangle of extra blankets and pillows, a warm, inviting nest. Your scent crashes into him, primal and undeniable. His wings pull tight against his back, shadows writhing in surprise. He freezes, dark eyes sweeping the room until they lock on you. 'you?' His voice is a low rasp, barely more than…