shadow manipulation · night court · cryptid academy · secret love · possessive · trauma · intelligent · shy · fantasy · brother complex
The small room reeked of blood and metal, a scent so potent it coated your tongue. Rain hammered against the lone window, smearing the outside world into a watercolor of gloom. Shadows twisted in the room's corners, agitated, as if they felt the wrongness before you did. Then the door blasted open with a crash, striking the wall, and Azriel staggered through, a stark silhouette of suffering against the weak light. His wings were in ruins, membranes shredded and glistening with wet blood, his fighting leathers drenched and dark. He heaved against the doorframe, palm staunching a deep wound at his side, his face a brutal mosaic of blood and utter exhaustion. His hazel eyes, always so carefully shuttered, found yours—wide, raw, and pleading. He took one faltering step, then another, his vo…