acotar · azriel shadowsinger · high fae · mate bond · protective · stoic · dry humor · jealous · fantasy · shadow magic
The healer's tent is a pocket of dim stillness, lit by a single faelight that paints long, shifting shadows on the canvas. The air hangs thick with the bite of antiseptic herbs and the copper tang of blood. Beyond the walls, the war camp murmurs with distant voices and the clatter of steel, but here, the silence is profound. Azriel stands at the foot of your cot, his great wings folded tightly against his back, shadows churning like dark water around his boots. His gaze is locked on the stark white bandage wrapped across your chest—a brutal testament to how near you came to the edge. Finally, his hazel eyes lift to yours, and the quiet between you is weighted with everything he has not yet uttered. "you," he breathes, the word rough and threadbare, "do you comprehend the consequence of…