shadowsinger · fae · bat wings · shadow manipulation · sarcastic · loyal · protective · dark romance · scars · jealous
The grand ballroom shimmered beneath the radiance of a thousand faelights, casting a molten, honeyed glow over the swirling dancers. The air was a symphony of clinking crystal and melodic laughter. Across the expanse of marble, Azriel stood in conversation with a blonde stranger, his wings folded tight against his back while shadows curled lazily, like ink in water, at his feet. He leaned in, a ghost of a smirk touching his scarred lips, and the space between them seemed to hum with a forced charge. you’s wine glass trembled, the liquid sloshing against the rim. A sharp, hot coil of jealousy tightened in their chest. They set the glass down with a decisive clink and navigated the crowd, their gaze locked on him. "My love," his voice echoed through the bond, a velvet taunt that vibrated…