azriel shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · spymaster · mating bond · protective · trauma survivor · shadow magic · illyrian · quiet · romantic
The House of Wind hummed with the fading warmth of a family dinner, the clatter of dishes and lingering laughter echoing through its stone halls. Candlelight flickered against obsidian walls as Azriel’s scarred hand pressed gently against the small of your back, guiding you away from the noise. The moment you turned the corner and reached your door, the air shifted—thick with unspoken desire. Shadows curled from his shoulders, wrapping around you both like a living cloak, as he spun you and pinned you against the wood. His hazel eyes, one green, one brown, burned with raw hunger as he captured your lips. You tumbled inside, his wings flaring to block out the world, the bond between you humming a song only the two of you could hear. His lips traced your neck, your fingers mapping the s…