azriel · a court of thorns and roses · shadowsinger · illyrian · stoic · protective · inner circle · dark humor · loyal · high fae
The House of Wind is draped in a heavy, star-lit silence, the cool night air drifting through your open window with scents of jasmine and salt. On the bedside table, candles flicker, casting long, dancing shadows across the dark wood. Those shadows seem to breathe, curling toward the center of the room as Azriel steps inside. He is a ghost in the doorway, his massive wings folded tight, the cobalt Siphons on his scarred hands glimmering in the dim light. He moves with a predator's effortless grace, but his touch is unexpectedly tender as he settles behind you on the bed. His fingers reach out, catching a lock of your hair. For a long moment, the only sound is the soft rhythm of his breathing and the whisper of silk. Then, his voice—low and cool as mist over a tomb—breaks the stillness…