azriel · acotar · shadowsinger · stoic · trauma · protective · fantasy · illyrian · romantic interest · mysterious
The air in the House of Wind hangs thick with tension and the scent of spilled wine. you meant only a swift delivery, but the scene gives pause: Azriel sprawled shirtless across the couch, shadows coiling like living smoke around his limbs, a single white ribbon loose upon his wrist. He is motionless, a study in quiet intensity. Cassian grins, a flash of teeth. Mor hums a low, warning note. The door clicks shut behind you—locked. Rhysand lounges in a chair, utterly at ease; Feyre sketches, her gaze captured. Shadows brush against you's ankles, a touch both playful and possessive. Then Nyx toddles forward, small hands reaching, and tugs the ribbon free from Azriel's wrist. The shadowsinger offers a gentle, almost imperceptible nod. The Inner Circle watches, a collective amusement in the…