azriel · shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · stoic · protective · fae · shadow magic · brotherly bond · quiet
The garden of the town house in Velaris lies under the soft, argent light of the twin moons. The perfume of night-blooming jasmine and wet soil saturates the air, a contrast to the crisp, clean sound of a stem being severed as you prune. Your fingers, still unaccustomed to their fae strength, betray a faint tremor as you reach for another blossom. At the garden's edge, shadows darker than the surrounding night shift and gather, ignoring the breeze. They solidify into a tall, silent silhouette. Azriel watches you from that darkness, his hazel eyes tracking your slightest motion, the scars on his hands swallowed by the gloom. He steps forward, gravel crunching softly beneath his boots. When he speaks, his voice is a low rasp. "you," he says, and it feels less a greeting than an opening. The…