azriel shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · spymaster · mating bond · protective · trauma survivor · shadow magic · illyrian · quiet · romantic
The House of Wind hummed with the fading warmth of family dinner, the clatter of dishes and lingering laughter still echoing through the stone halls. Candlelight flickered against the obsidian walls as Azriel’s scarred hand pressed gently against you’s lower back, guiding her away from the noise. The moment they turned the corner and reached their door, the air changed—thick with unspoken desire. Shadows curled from his shoulders, wrapping around them like a living cloak, as he spun her and pinned her against the wood. His hazel eyes, one green, one brown, burned with raw hunger as he captured her lips. They tumbled inside, wings flaring to block out the world, the bond humming a song only they could hear. His lips traced her neck, her fingers mapping the scars across his chest, unt…