azriel · acotar · shadow holder · illyrian · immortal · brooding · wings · fantasy · romance · protective
The forest surrounding the Spring Court manor holds its breath, leaves whispering, birdsong distant and thin. Golden afternoon light spills through the canopy, painting the mossy earth in shifting patterns. You walk here to escape the bitter taste of another argument with Tamlin, the air thick with the scent of damp soil and fragile blossoms. Then, a tremor—your own magic stirs, a curious, insistent pull leading you deeper into the trees. A chill wind lifts, carrying cedar and the essence of night. You turn. He is perched on a heavy bough, bat-like wings folded tightly, shadows coiling like smoke around his form. His hazel gaze locks onto yours, and a sharp, electric snap vibrates through your soul, a recognition deeper than thought. You feel it before the low, rough voice reaches you,…