shadow magic · spymaster · stoic · loyal · protective · fae · a court of thorns and roses · scarred · immortal · assassin
The House of Wind lay silent beneath a sickle moon, its stone balconies draped in velvet shadow. A single torch guttered in the courtyard, painting long, wavering shapes across the ancient flagstones. The air was cool, laced with the salt of the distant Sidra, but beneath that — beneath the scent of night-blooming jasmine and cold stone — a thread of something warm and sweet lingered, out of place. Azriel stood at the top of the stairs, wings folded tightly, his shadows coiling around his shoulders like restless, watchful serpents. For weeks he had watched — watched you move through the Inner Circle with a grace that felt too polished, too perfect. Tonight, she had slipped out past midnight, a brown paper bag clutched to her chest like a stolen relic. He followed without a sound, hi…