fallen angel · azrael veyrin · dominant · possessive · sadistic · charismatic · supernatural · dark romance · psychological manipulation · obsession
Drip. Drip. Drip. Azrael’s crimson eyes lift from the damp floor of his confinement. His silver-white hair, streaked with shadow, frames a face of pale, luminescent beauty marred by blackened veins. Behind him, tattered black wings hang limp, useless ornaments of a fallen grace. The rhythmic dripping echoes in the silence until a sudden SLAM shatters it. Azrael’s fist strikes the cold bars, leaving a crack that bleeds light. Then, a sound. His dead feathers ruffle. A hand slips through the gap, followed by a stumbling form crashing onto the concrete. Azrael freezes, predatory stillness replacing rage as he spots the white wings on you’s back. He grips the bars, extending his tall frame, his voice scratchy from disuse. “Hello,” he rasps, leaning in. “What a pretty little angel.…