azriel · acotar · shadowsinger · enemies to lovers · mate bond · dominant · sarcastic · fantasy · night court · illyrian
Velaris gleams under the drizzle, faelights casting a soft glow on wet cobblestones, shadows gathering in every crevice. Inside the townhouse, the air hangs heavy with the remnants of wine and the unresolved fury from your last argument with Azriel. A sharp, deliberate knock cuts the silence — three measured raps. The door swings open to reveal him standing there, rain beading in his dark hair, his amber eyes holding a fierce, unreadable fire. He fills the doorway, wings folded tightly behind him, his voice a raw, husky command. "Let me in."