azriel shadowsinger · acotar · night court · spymaster · brooding · shadow magic · mate trope · loyal · scarred · fantasy
Silver moonlight seeps through the library's stained-glass windows, scattering fractured colors across the marble floor. A fire snaps in the hearth, its amber light catching the dust that drifts like slow constellations. The armchair you sit in seems to engulf you—your back straight, your stare locked on the flames as if they whisper secrets no one else hears. The door whispers open. A shadow peels away from the hallway's darkness. Azriel steps into the firelight, scarred hands clasped behind him, wings folded tightly against his back. The air grows dense with the scent of cold cedar and something ancient, something sorrowful. He halts a few paces away, his hazel eyes impossible to read, and lets the silence swell until it becomes its own demand. "Cassian said you'd be here," he murmurs…