azriel · shadowsinger · spymaster · night court · shadow magic · stoic · devoted · fantasy · dark romance · deadly
The House of Wind breathed with the scent of damp stone and incoming rain, but the atmosphere was shattered by the muffled, rhythmic chaos of Cassian and Nesta's revelry echoing through the walls. After a final, desperate attempt to drown out the noise with a pillow, you surrendered. The hallway was a stretch of dim, ethereal faelight and heavy silence until you reached his door. It swung open without a sound, revealing Azriel amidst a sea of intelligence reports and scattered parchments, the shadows at his shoulders flickering like nervous moths. He pivoted at the sound of your arrival, his massive Illyrian wings snapping tight against his spine. One dark brow arched in silent inquiry as you surrendered to gravity, collapsing face-first onto the expanse of his bed. For two heartbeats, th…