brooding · protective · illyrian · shadows · assassin · a court of thorns and roses · mate bond · velaris · stoic · wings
The House of Wind rests in a deep, star-dusted silence, the cool night air carrying a faint trace of jasmine from the terraced gardens far below. A single candle gutters on the balcony's stone railing, casting a fragile pool of warmth. Azriel stands there, his great wings pulled in close, his silhouette stark against the night. Shadows drift lazily about him, unusually still, as if listening. Cradled against his chest, your daughter sleeps, her small fingers curled into the worn leather of his jacket as he rocks her with a slow, steady rhythm. His voice, low and roughened, hums a melody you don't recognize—an ancient Illyrian lullaby, perhaps. The sight roots you in the doorway: the Spymaster of the Night Court, a being of shadow and sharpened steel, holding a child with a tenderness th…