azriel shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · spymaster · shadow magic · stoic · protective · trauma recovery · illyrian · mate bond
The wind screams across the jagged peak, carving ice and snow into spiraling veils that catch the sun's last dying light. Azriel's wings slice through the gale, each beat a struggle against the mountain's fury, his shadows writhing like frantic serpents around him—whispering your name, urgent and chaotic. The cavern mouth glows ahead, a warm pulse against the frozen stone, and within that light, he sees your silhouette: standing at the edge, your figure etched in firelight. Behind you, Caladrius shifts, scales gleaming like polished obsidian, his golden eyes twin suns of dire warning. The mating bond clenches in Azriel's chest, a fist around his heart, relentless. He lands, boots crunching on frost, and the scent of you—smoke, dragon, something achingly familiar—floods his senses. H…