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obliviouscxnt · 3 months

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His Shadow Azriel x Reader

a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333

synopsis: azriel takes you for granted

Warnings: angst

pt.2

He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.

Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine.

The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed.

They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him.

He was completely unaware, she stole his focus.

He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.

Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.

They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.

At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips.

She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness.

When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.

The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying.

Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either.

Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate.

It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.

The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.

It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.

“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.

He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.

He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.

He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too.

Of course he wouldn’t have a mate.

He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.

It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.

They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone.

He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it.

*****

You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran. He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant.

It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that.

You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.

But he would never see that.

Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room.

He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone?

You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?

You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.

You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around.

But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth.

Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.

*****

It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain.

Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.

Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.

Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.

“There was something in my room.”

“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.

“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.” His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that.

He's usually the one doing the sneaking.

His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind.

This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them.

“Are you sure you it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.

“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.

Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?”

The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t.

It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.

A shadow.

“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face.

The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.

Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.

Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?”

His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room.

“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”

There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.

With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.

When he turned them back on you stood before him.

The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.

“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.

Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.

“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?”

Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.

“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?”

The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.”

The lights flicker again and you're gone.

Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.

next->

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x shadow!reader

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moonys-library · 11 months

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Men are more interesting in books than they are in real life.

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readychilledwine · 2 months

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Size Kink

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

A Size Kink is a general term for being aroused by being smaller/larger than your partner. It can be height, muscle mass/weight in general, cock size, ect. This is generally a kink we associate with subs having, but in my humble 5'1" experience, I've met more Doms with this kink than subs (hence my 5'11" baby daddy who thought he'd never have someone short enough to enjoy this kink with.) This kink has several subgroups that fall into it and sex acts that fall into it, but my personal favorite to write is height difference and body frame difference. So tall muscular male, short female (curvy or lean.)

What I love about size kinks is that it's so focused on specific aspects, and ANY body type gets to play with it. Little hands? Little legs? Luscious curves? Member of the Itty bitty titty committee? There is someone out there with a size Kink who is into your body and thinks you are a piece of artwork and sexiest thing on the planet. It's so beautiful because it is a body type kink that does not discriminate, and as a sex positive and body image positive person, I think that's super important and comforting for some people.

💕Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

As always NSFW below the cut

Azriel x short!reader

Warnings - reader is VERY petite, smut, p in v, slow stretching

A/N - So, I actually have a request for a size Kink with Cassian sitting in my drafts as well from before I decided to do Valentines Day Bingo. Since I picture Cassian as an absolute unit, I used a more Megan thee Stallion vibe for that reader (tall and thick) so I decided to go very short and thinner built for this one to ensure they'd be different. I apologize if that bothers anyone. I will try to get that Cassian request finished asap to post it and make up for this 💙

Ps- with how quickly I am cranking some of these out, and how.... spicy some of them are getting, I don't have my normal outside editing all of the time. Baby daddy proof read this one. Before staring at me and going, "that wasn't fair." So, I apologize for any errors, as always, I will catch them on my fresh reread after it's posted 🫠

Azriel was slowly losing his mind as he watched you use a chair to be closer to Cassian's height and argue with him face to face.

You were just so… small. So little compared to the two Illyrian males. They towered over you. They dwarfed you. Hell, he and Cass had discussed several times how easy you'd be to manhandle, considering they were both so sure their large hands could almost touch if they were wrapped around your waist.

At 6’8” and 7’ it wasn't hard for him and Cassian to own a room or be the tallest males, but Gods when Azriel stood next to your 5’ frame, when he saw Cassian pick you up like you were no more than a doll. It did something to him. It made him feel like a God, like he was powerful, possibly invincible.

He had been further spurred on by over hearing you and Nesta yesterday. She had asked you about how, if the opportunity presented itself, you would manage to fuck an Illyrian, and you, you with your never back down attitude had told Ness, “Mountains were made to be climbed.” He did not know if you had meant that in regards to him, but his hand found his cock quickly that night.

Azriel walked over to where you and Cassian argued over cereal. The fight wasn't serious, but he just needed to remind you that even with a chair below you, you still fell a few inches short.

“Get down before you fall and hurt yourself, angel.” He put a hand to you, offering to help you down. You glared, but put your hand in his.

Offering to help you was a mistake.

He felt the blood rushing to his cock as your little hand sat in his.

He shared a knowing look with Cassian when you looked away to step down and get back on the floor. The argument resumed instantly, your hand still in his.

It stopped as soon as Nesta walked in. Her mate and you going silent and agreeing to disagree.

Well, at least you thought you had agreed. Until Cassian turned around, Nesta in his arms waiting to fly into Velaris. He looked between you and Azriel before smirking. “You know, y/n, you might have shit taste in cereal, but at least you're the perfect height for some things.”

You didn't get it until you turned to Azriel, plush lips parted to ask what Cassian meant.

The blush that spread your cheeks was sinful.

Another image Azriel would save when he imagined it was your mouth around his cock tonight.

Azriel's room was across the hall from yours, so he knew you were being subjected to the same torture he was.

He was sure all of the Night Court could hear Cassian and Nesta. He rolled over to his back, throwing an arm over his face and sighing.

You were so small, so sneaky, he hadn't noticed you come in and shut the door until you were sitting on his bed.

And fuck being in his custom made oversized bed made you look so little. “Hello angel.”

He made room for you, welcoming you under the blanket you laid facing him, watching him. “Do you all never.. get worn out?” He chuckled. “Because humans do. Males typically finish, then they're like, done, and asleep.”

He looked towards you, laughing and smiling so hard his dimples were showing. “Is that your way of telling me you didn't enjoy rolling in the sheets while you were human?”

That blush spread your face again. “I had plenty of fun before Hybern did this to me. Thank you very much, sir.”

You had done it. Azriel shut his eyes, growling at the nickname as he did. “You cannot call me that when you're laying in my bed, y/n.”

You looked at him, snuggling closer to him. You knew what you were doing to him. You had known for a while. You always tracked his eyes when he'd watch you take your heels off, biting his lip thinking no one was looking. You noticed him hide his arousal behind a mask of indifference when you would climb things around the House of Wind. You had also noticed Azriel and Cassian taking every chance they could to lift you.

You had even know Azriel was so sneakily listening to you and Nesta the other day, and you had meant it. Azriel was a mountain you intended on climbing. “Of course, sir. Wouldn't want you to have to use those big hands to keep me quiet.”

The growl that echoed through the room had your thighs clenching. He was on you in an instant arm between your breasts, so it rested on your neck. The other hand sat on your hip, inching forward. “Do not tease me.” You could feel him pressed against your back, mind immediately lost in how that would fit.

You may have been biting off more than you could chew.

But fuck it.

You had never backed down from a challenge. Why start now?

You wiggled further into him, grazing his cock with each movement. “What if I'm not teasing? What if this is an offer, sir?”

“You're going to regret that, little one,” Azriel's hand immediately was in your shorts, his other hand squeezing your throat. A thick finger ran your soaked core, pulling a moan from you. “Going to have to go slow,” Azriel ground his hips into you, needing that friction on his aching cock. “Don't want to hurt you, angel.”

That one finger entered you without warning. It was already a stretch, but one you welcomed.

You loved how everything about Azriel was so big. His hands, his muscled chest and arms, his wings. Of course he'd be big there too. Anticipation began to replace the fear. You relaxed into him, tilting your head and pulling him into a heated sloppy kiss.

Azriel swallowed your moans and cries as his finger opened you up for him. You were tight, so damn tight. His hand moved from your throat to your breasts, loving how they weren't even a handful for him. You were so petite and slim, he reminded himself. He pulled your tank top off, maneuvering the best he could to get you fully below him. He pushed in a second finger, watching as you squirmed so helplessly below him. “So fucking little,” he moaned. “Mother above you're perfect. Just perfect.”

He leaned back, fingers increasing speed the best they could with your shorts in the way while he toyed with your breasts, pinching your nipples and smacking the tender flesh as he saw fit. “Cum for me so I can sit you on my cock, angel. You can do it, y/n. Show me how tight you'll be squeezing around me.”

You felt like you were floating as you came, whimpering Azriel's name as you watched him rut against the mattress for some friction, hazel eyes damn near lost in lust.

He pulled his fingers out of you, wasting no time ripping his sweatpants off and using those juices to coat himself. Your shorts came next, torn to shreds as he pulled you to the edge of the mattress and rested one leg on both sides of his chest.

He was as perfect as you imagined. His cock was long and thick. He was running it along your folds, soaking up at the slick he could before smacking the head of it against your clit.

Azriel could help but to stand with his hips flush against yours, admiring how it looked like his cock would be damn near in your stomach. “Gonna go slow,” he mumbled as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Can't risk hurting my little angel.”

He pushed the head in, keeping an eye on you as you moaned out a long fuck before relaxing into his bed. He sat there, only a few inches inside of you, feeling as your walls stretched out to accommodate him.

He pulled out and slowly reentered, pushing a little more inside of you. Your back arched off the bed, a whimper of pleasure ripping through your throat. The burn of it felt so good. You felt yourself drooling already, mind numb, and lost to anything that wasn't Azriel.

He continued his motions over and over until he was flush against your hips, and you were screaming for him. You had cum just from him slowly getting inside of you, and now he could see the bulge he had created, the slight swelling inside of you as your body made room for him.

Azriel put a hand on the bulge, feeling himself inside of you as he began thrusting. You were squeezing him so tight, hand struggling to find him to hold on to something.

He felt himself losing control, pace growing faster and faster as he watched you squirming and moaning below him. His arms went behind your hips and back, lifting you off the bed and manhandling you in the air for a little while. He brought you to his chest, moving you to be against the wall that shared his room and Cassian's.

A silent brag, and message, that he could now accurrately inform Cassian how easy you were to toss around like a doll.

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you became a babbling mess. Your silky core was twitching and tightening around him all over again, indicating to him how close you were, how ready you were. “Az,” you panted. “So fucking big.”

“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “Bet it feels so good stretching you out, doesn't it, baby?” You couldn't respond as a certain angle had you becoming pliant in his arms. “Fuck I know it does.” He was practically lifting you on and off of him, watching as you stretched around his cock. “You're close, aren't you, angel?”

You nodded, eyes glazed over and jaw fallen open to the perfect o. “Gonna cum.”

“Then cum. Squeeze my cock. You wanted to climb the mountain, right y/n? Fucking climb.”

You hit that peak on his command again, clinging to him tightly as he continued using you and stretching you out.

It took Azriel a few more moments, but he stilled inside of you, head thrown back in a loud growl as he came inside of you. He pressed you back against the wall, panting slightly as he stared into your eyes. He lifted you easily, allowing his cock to fall out of you and you to whine at the sudden emptiness that took place where he had filled you.

“This can't be a one-time thing,” his voice was almost desperate as he moved to set you on the desk, forehead finding yours. “I need more of you. All of you.”

You couldn't help but to bit your lip, nodding so quickly with a growing smile. “I like how little you make me feel. How safe you make me feel.”

Azriel's eyes almost rolled back completely as they shut. “Gods you are perfect.” He leaned in to kiss you, only to be interrupted by his door slamming open and Cassian and Nesta barging in.

A massive wing snapped between you and them, blocking your body from their view.

Cassian cleared his throat before speaking. “We want to know how exactly that worked. Show us. Please.”

“Show you?!” Your voice cracked as you turned to a smirking Azriel.

Azriel kissed your forehead. “Bend over the desk, angel. Gotta give him a show since he asked so nicely.”

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #shadow daddy #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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the-book-gnome · 1 year

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can you write sm with azriel and a tired either rlly subby reader or little reader? like anything im begging 🙏

But I’m Tired

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairings: Azriel x f!reader

Warnings: smut, sleepy sex, p in v, Azriel being desperate, oral(f!reciving) multiple orgasms, soft sex, unprotected sex (love, princess)

18+ only ! minors do not interact !

You felt so warm, something was rubbing your cheek but you were far too tired to open your eyes. You snuggled closer to whatever was touching you, it smelt wonderful as well. Soft lips pressed against your forehead, they trailed down to your neck, soft and simple. You let out a small whimper when you finally heard his voice. “Wake up sweetheart,” It was so gentle and quiet, it felt like a dream. “You don't want to get in trouble now do you?”

Your eyes shot open at the threat, you hated when you upset him. It confused you when darkness flooded your sight, when you reached out to see if his wing was blocking the light you were met with nothing, it must be night still. “When did you get back?” You could only mumble the words, your eyes felt so heavy all you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

“I need you to stay up for me, I've missed you so fucking much,” Azriel's lips were on your neck again, gently sucking on the sensitive spots. The sensation made you feel aroused, and a wet patch started to form between your legs. He slowly moved you onto your back, there was a prominent frown on your face as he settled in between your legs. You made a sound of protest when he went to take your nightgown off, “Shh shh, I'll be gentle and slow I promise,” Azriel's hands moved up to your face, cupping it. He left a few kisses on your cheeks and nose before continuing his ministrations. You tucked your body in as the cool air caresses your skin, small goosebumps raised as you grew colder, Azriel noticed this and untucked his wings enough so they blocked any warmth escaping from your bodies. His hands roamed up your thighs, pulling at the lacy underwear you had put on earlier, you squeezed your legs together as he pulled them off. You were too tired for this and it was so late in the night. “None of that princess, spread your thighs for me.” His tone was serious but all you did in response was whine.

“But I'm tired, can't we do this later?” Ariel smiled at you, you looked so tiny like this, all curled up. His thumbs circled your pebbled nipples. He watched as you wiggled beneath him. Az was unbelievably desperate to have your tight little pussy wrapped around his cock, it had been days since he last had you like this. He did feel bad for waking you up from such a peaceful rest but he needed you whimpering and moaning as he fucked you.

“I know love, but I need you to behave tonight okay? I really fucking need you right now.” The desperation in his voice made your heart flutter. Even though the two of you are mates, he is rarely this vulnerable with you. Listening to his plea you spread open your legs. You heard him groan at the sight you gave him. Peaking your eyes open you found him staring right back at you, “So beautiful,” His words made you flush.

Azriel brought his lips down to yours for a desperate kiss. As he moved down your body he propped your legs on his shoulders so his face was right in front of your aching core. He groaned at the scent, his tongue begging for a taste of you. With one last glance up to your face he decided to only give you what you need and nothing more, as much as he loved to overstimulate you with his mouth he didn't want to wake you up fully.

You whimpered as Azriel laid his tongue flat against your soaking cunt, the vibration of his groans only made it more pleasurable. Your weak hands fisted the sheets under you, legs twitching against his wings. Az continued to lick you, his tongue would circle your puffy clit and then move down to your entrance. He enjoyed teasing you, dipping his tongue in only to remove it a moment later. More quiet moans tumbled from your lips, your hips were gently rocking into his face, chasing your high. You couldn’t manage much more than that, the weight of your body felt like a thousand pounds.

Azriel didn’t seem to mind that, if anything he was encouraging it by holding your ass up so it was easier for you to move. His nails dug into your skin as your calf rubbed against his wing again, the pleasure shooting straight down to his cock. Gods he needed to be inside of you. He sped up his pace, his tongue rapidly licking you. When he felt your tight hole clench around his tongue he knew you were about to finish. Az wrapped his mouth around your clit sucking hard. You came a second later, squeezing your eyes shut as that white-hot pleasure flooded your body. Whines and whimpers escaped from your soft lips.

It took a few minutes before you came down from your high, Azriel had moved back on top of you, his fingers playing with a loose strand of your hair. “Sleep?” You whispered, you could feel the darkness taking over. The orgasm Az just gave you only made you more tired.

“Soon,” Azriel kissed your cheek, his hand moving down to his cock, lining it up with your entrance. His other arm rested by your head holding himself up. Your brows furrowed as he pushed inside of you, true to his word he was going slow, he made sure not to hurt you as he started fucking you. You grabbed onto his hand, your eyes fluttering open as he squeezed yours. He looked like a god from this angle. His eyes filled with lust and his wings spread out above you. You could feel his shadows tracing little intricate shapes on your skin. A satisfied sigh left your lips once he was fully inside of you, you watched as Azriel closed his eyes, composing himself. His wings twitched when you clenched around him. A silent plea to start moving.

Your eyes slowly closed as he started pumping inside of you. His thrusts were slow but deep. All you could feel was him, all you could smell was him. Your mouth parted as he brushed against that sensitive spot. He continued to do so, causing you to get closer to your orgasm much faster than usual. He was doing it on purpose. He needed you to come before him and by the way, your tight little cunt was clenching onto him he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“Az,” your breathy moans only spurred him on more, he released your hand and brought it down between your legs. Your hips bucked as his thumb circled your clit. The amount of pleasure you were receiving felt euphoric. Azriel’s pace sped up slightly, he was getting lost in the pleasure and as much as he wanted to keep it slow for you it felt impossible.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, it’ll only take a few more thrusts before you're creaming around his thick cock. Your cunt clenched around Azriel as you came for the second time that night, the pleasure made you dizzy and breathless. Azriel came a few seconds later. Lodging himself so deep inside you, you could feel it in your throat.

He left a few open-mouthed kisses against the hollow of your throat. Once he caught his breath he pulled out of you, and you whined at the loss of his cock. Azriel laid down next to you, pulling the covers back over your bodies. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped a wing around you. “Thank you, my love.” When he looked down he found you had already passed out. That brought a small smile to his lips, you looked so peaceful like this.

#reader smut #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriels shadows #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel wings #anons<3

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 month

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Where The Shadows Dance

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

SUMMARY: When Beron invites the Night Court to his Autumn home in an attempt to strengthen bonds between the two courts, Azriel and his companions are suspicious of potential ulterior motives. They are, ultimately, correct to think this, as Beron does have a reason for his invitation.

Y/n Vanserra, the Autumn Court's untamed princess, needs a bodyguard, and who better than one of the Night Court warriors who helped command the armies against Hybern?

Y/n's untamed spirit clashes with Azriel's reserved nature, leading to unwilling adventures and forbidden explorations of the Autumn Court's hidden corners. And Azriel slowly stops finding himself able to say no - not when she flirts with him to get her way, or teases him for being a 'broody old male.'

And though he knows he shouldn't, he finds himself falling for her. It will jeopardise everything, and yet he can't help it...

But it's okay, because she's falling for him too.

GENERAL WARNINGS: swearing, violence, descriptions of injuries and blood, smut (18+ mdni), um... yeah

Chapter i - The Proposition

Chapter ii - The Bodyguard

Chapter iii - The Princess

Chapter iv - coming soon

Chapter v - coming soon

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fanwarriorfictions · 20 days

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Not Again

Azriel x Rowaelin Daughter Reader

Summary: Azriel has a bad habit of finding random females falling onto the River House lawn. This time, the female in question catches him off guard, and she seems to be even stranger than the last.

Part Two, Part Three Part Four

-Part One-

There was a shift in the air, so subtle that it could’ve been passed off as a breeze through a cracked window. He would’ve thought just that if it hadn’t been for the keen wisps of shadows at his shoulders whispering in his ears, outside, someone’s here, outside, here, here, here, here.

The room filled with his family was non the wiser as the shadowsinger shifted towards the door, all of them talking and laughing by the fire place. Feyre and Rhys cozied up on the loveseat, little Nyx nestled in his mothers arms. Nesta sitting on Cassian’s lap, the sisters talking about the recent books they’d read, his brothers admiring their mates. Mor sipped on her third glass of wine, listening to Elain talk about her blooming garden while she absently fiddled with her still full glass, Lucien sitting comfortably by her side, content to just listen to his mate talk. Amren was nowhere to be found tonight, Varian presumably in town.

Azriel found it easy to slip out the back door, ready to deal with the supposed trouble without disturbing his family’s peace. His shadows didn’t seem alarmed, persistent, but not noting any imminent threat. Despite their ease, he found Truth Teller in his hand, ready to deal with whoever he found if necessary.

It was dark outside, the brisk night air dancing over his fire warmed skin. Calm, no sign of that subtle shift, nothing but his shadows urging him towards the garden, towards whoever was out here causing the small disturbance.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, what he was expecting to find. Maybe a drunk who wandered to far from the main streets of Velaris, maybe a curious young fae who just wanted a glimpse of the inner circle. He’d dealt with his fair share of both, gently warning them away from the home.

But whatever he’d been expecting it certainly wasn’t what he found. A female laid on the ground, clothes and skin covered with dirt and blood, her body sprawled like she’d been thrown down without care. He could sent fresh blood on her coming from a wound on her head, the stream of it dripping down onto the stones beneath her. Her breathing was steady, her heartbeat strong.

Azriel clenched the blade’s hilt tight in his hand, drawing closer to her slowly. Her scent drifted towards him on a phantom wind, pine and snow, like the mountains of Illryia. Despite his resentment of the people who lived there, the scent reminded him of home.

His shadows curiously trail around the female, finding more and more injuries, a cut on her thigh, bruising across her abdomen. Whoever she was, she had seen her fair share of violence. She was high fae, her ears arched into delicate points, though he could not discern which court she may belong too. Her clothes were to disheveled to detect a distinct style, black leather pants and a long sleeved green shirt beneath a leather vest sheathed with knives like a bandolier. Clothes that could belong to any court, maybe even from the continent.

So busy examining her he didn’t detect the change in her breathing until it was to late.

The female launched up with such speed he was almost to slow to block the attack. She’d pulled one of those knives from her vest, it’s wickedly sharp edge to close to his throat for comfort. Truth Teller blocked the blade, the metal singing against her dagger. The female was quick to pull back, not lunging again like he thought she would but reaching for a smaller knife at her ribs, it was flying through the air faster than he could blink, aiming for his eye with remarkable accuracy, Cassian would be proud of a throw like that. The only reason it didn’t take his eye was due to a shadow darting out to grab the blade midair.

The female is a blur as she lunges again, going for the arm holding his blade. He dodges back, the strike missing him by a hair. She’s fast, faster than most fae he’s fought over the centuries. He catches her next strike, a blow to his side that could’ve left him bleeding out on the floor. She pulls back and retreats a few steps, her stance shifting back like she might jump at him again.

“Stop,” he snarls at her.

She hisses, baring her teeth at him, teeth with unusually sharp canines, and then she speaks, a language he’d never heard before. And that’s when the pieces start to click, when his shadows start to whisper, not of this world, another, another world, another, another, another.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he grounds out, “not again.”

The female only snarls, reaching for another of those small wicked blades. She flips it, pinching the sharp tip between her fingers.

“Wait,” he says, sheathing his dagger at his side, “just wait.”

Her eyes track his movements, the ice cold look in them enough to make him shiver. It felt like the air around them tried to freeze under her gaze, the wind no longer a soft breeze but an ice kissed howl.

His head cocked to the side, that was her, she was controlling the wind. The air swirling around them faster and faster, colder and colder.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said though he was sure she couldn’t understand him.

He held his hands up so she could see them, willing his shadows away so he could look as unthreatening as possible. When the last unknown female had landed on this lawn, she’d fallen right in front of him, he’d been able to get his blade angled to her throat before she had anytime to react, this female on the other hand, had managed to get the jump on him first, a fact that his brothers would never let him live down.

The wind bit at his wings, discomfort sooner turning to pain if it kept up like that. It felt like the moisture in the air was turning to ice, slicing into his skin.

She repeats her words, her voice hard and unforgiving just like the wind around them. A shield, he realized, a casing of wind to block all sound, to keep others out and to keep him trapped.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, hoping she can understand the plea in his tone.

Her head tilts, examining him from head to toe, a predator studying its next meal. In that moment, Azriel had never felt more like prey in his life. She had an intensity that rivaled Nesta and Amren, like she knew she was the most powerful creature in the room and she’d be happy to prove it. This female was dangerous, strong, fast, and from another world just like Bryce Quinlann, he could only hope she’d turn out to be an ally as well.

Blood still drips down her face, the cut on her brow deep and jagged, like it had been ripped across a dull object. The scent of her blood filled his nose, laced with that pine and snow, and something warm, like an ember drifting from a fire. Again, it smelled uncannily like home.

Those cold eyes flare wide, the frost bitten wind warming a fraction. Something in her posture shifts, no longer in fight mode, but flight.

“Stop,” he pleads, “hold on.”

Her voice shifts when she speaks, lighter and less harsh, he still can’t understand any of it. His confusion must be evident on his face because she scoffs, lowering the dagger to her side, still not sheathing it. The wind fades away, replaced by a warm gentle breeze that thaws his near frozen wings.

Azriel sighs in relief and she cocks her head at the sound. Her eyes take in his wings, noting the frost on them that slowly melts away. The air seems to get even warmer then.

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head to show his gratitude, all while keeping an eye on her.

Though she seems to be less hostile, he wouldn’t let his guard down for a second around her.

He felt it then, the gentle prying talons on his mind, ones he instantly let in. Showing Rhys exactly where he was and who was before him.

Not again, Rhys sighs.

That’s what I said, Azriel replies.

And then that night kissed power settles around them, the female’s eyes hardening back to ice, dagger already raised and ready to defend herself. Azriel was half tempted to tell her it wasn’t worth it, that there was little she could do against Rhys, but he kept his mouth shut as his high lord appeared before them. Giving the female that cool charming look that had most ready to eat out of the palm of his hand.

She didn’t have that kind of reaction, instead she lifted that dagger towards his high lord, a snarl on her lips, those vicious canines on display.

“Well that’s interesting,” Rhys says, coolly looking her over, “high fae, but not one of ours.”

She snaps at him, words he couldn’t understand but by the way she ground them out Azriel could tell they weren’t niceties.

“I’m sure that was her way of calling me a prick,” Rhys chuckles, “I’d recognize it in any language.”

Azriel eyes the two of them, he has no doubts that his high lord could defend himself against the female, but after the last encounter he’d had with a foreign fae he didn’t want to underestimate her. Rhys seems to agree, Azriel can almost see the invisible attack he launches, and he sees the exact moment Rhys hits a wall of pure ice around her mind.

His high lord hisses in pain at the exact moment a bright blue light flares from the female, a mark shining on her brow. The mark like those in the book of breathings, like the horn on Bryce’s back.

The female swears, free hand touching that mark as if she could will it back beneath her skin. Her dagger is aimed for Rhys, but her eyes dance between them both, watching for any movement from Azriel, ready to take both of them on in a heartbeat if it was necessary.

“Go get Amren,” Azriel says, “and bring one of those damned translators.”

Rhys is gone within a split second, and the female is angling that dagger at Azriel instead, a warning to stay back, she makes no move to fight nor flee, her frozen stare colder than before though the air continues to stay warm.

Azriel simply holds his hands in the air, “We mean you no harm.”

She responds in that soft swirling language, his shadows writhe in answer, almost like they could understand her. She frowns at them as they travel across the ground towards her, a soft snarl from her lips has them skittering back. Interesting, the way she seems almost familiar with them, he wonders if she’d encountered fae like him before, maybe like Quinlann’s brother.

Rhys and Amren appear in that night kissed darkness, the female’s attention snapping towards them. Amren curiously examines the girl, that mark that still simmers faintly in her brow.

“Are you collecting more strays?”

Azriel doesn’t respond to the jab, watching as Amren takes the small silver bean from her pocket and throws it towards the female without warning. She catches it with ease, glancing between it and Amren with a raised brow.

“Eat,” Amren commands, miming the action, taping on her mouth as she speaks, “to understand.”

Her eyes find Azriel’s, brow quirked in confusion. He simply nods, mimicking Amren’s actions. She seems to understand that, as she lifts the translator to her mouth and swallows it down.

And just like that she erupts, not with that ice cold wind, but with fire, hotter and stronger than that of the heirs of Autumn. Maybe even hotter than Beron’s himself. A shield from Rhys traps the explosion of power though he winces from the effort of keeping her contained. The fire rages, the earth below her turning to ash in an instant. She burns so hot that the flame around her starts to turn blue. She burns and burns and burns, so bright Azriel shields his eyes, so hot that the shield around her can barely contain that heat.

Rhys does not remove the shield until that fire stops its raging, until all that’s left is smoke and ash. She had collapsed on the floor, her dagger red hot against her skin yet it doesn’t burn her hand. That mark burns brighter as she glares up at them, vibrant blue that lights up the world around them.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” she snaps, her voice tinged with that soft accent of her language.

“Hard to do that when we don’t speak your tongue,” Amren snaps back. “Who are you?”

Her ice cold stare is unsettling as it examines them all. She stands from the ground, that red hot blade lifting towards them, the air warping from the heat.

“My name is Y/n Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius,” her voice is steady, regal, “Crown Princess of Terrasen. And I’d like to know which one of you opened the gate that dragged me here.”

#this is so self indulgent #but I don’t care at all #Azriel’s shadows are cute little busybodies and I love them #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin

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eeereee · 1 year

Text

His Sleeping Vixen

Chapter 24 🎶💙🔥 A Proper Goodbye

Read it on AO3!

Azriel's shadows scheming

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #azriels shadows #say please

15 notes · View notes

itsswritten · 2 months

Text

Naughty little shadows | 9

Pairing: azriel x fem reader

Word count: 9.1K

Warnings: Angst, fighting, an animals bones breaking, IC fallout, 18+ dni if you are underaged, smut, fingering, oral fem receiving -- if I've missed anything please tell me.

Summary: You and Azriel begin to navigate the new complexities of your mating bond, but you quickly realise how dangerous this could become. Is being mated to the Shadowsinger worth your safety?

A/N: I've written a chunky one for you here. You are all very welcome ;) You asked for unhinged Az and you got it, you asked for smut and you got it. Mwah enjoy loves - Lottie

<< Previous Part

In your workshop, the air was thick with the scent of various botanicals and minerals, each carefully selected for their unique properties and hues. On the wooden countertop, there lay an array of ingredients: crushed petals of vibrant flowers, powdered gemstones shimmering with iridescence, and vials filled with rare extracts from mystical plants. You carefully measured and mixed these elements, adding drops of precious oils and resins to create paints that glowed with otherworldly brilliance.

You could do this all day, everyday.

It was your escapism.

Adding a touch of magic to paints was the one part of your power you’ve always been able to exercise. It being subtle and non threatening, meant it became a release of some sorts. Creating new paints, and colours that weren’t even on the rainbow brought you so much joy and gave vibrancy to your life. It gave you purpose, something you were grateful for.

Orders had been pouring into the shop since the Travelling Market. Receiving commissions far and wide, meant no day was quiet. You welcomed the work that fuelled your creativity. As you meticulously worked on the final touches of your latest order, Adon's voice broke the concentration, announcing the arrival of a large delivery for Feyre.

With a light sigh from being pulled out of your work midway, you set aside your brushes and turned to see Adon standing at the door, a sheepish expression on his face as he gestured towards the cart filled with supplies. It was rammed with canvases, an easel, brushes and other tools that you were sure Feyre already had.

"I need you to deliver these to the House of Wind," he requested, holding out a box of paints that seemed to be part of the order.

Strange.

Feyre always got her things delivered to River house or her studio in the artist quarter. Who were you to question though. She was High Lady, she could paint wherever her heart pleased.

You nod to Adon, "No worries, I'll just finish up this order and be on my way."

You were sure to finish off your latest commission, signing off the delivery to be sent to Autumn court.

As you wiped your hands, stained with various liquids and powders, on your overalls, you hoisted the box of paints onto your right shoulder, securing your grip on its top. With a playful tilt of your head, you directed your attention to Adon's cart.

"You’re gonna need legs for this one" you quipped with a small smile, gesturing toward the cart.

Understanding your jest, the wooden cart let out a series of groans and creaks as it transformed. Planks of wood shifted and contorted beneath it, forming two wooden long legs that gracefully held up the container of supplies.

Adon’s inventions were always a treasure of yours. You loved every single thing he created. Always finding a solution to a problem in the most unique way. His creations were a little unconventional, an acquired taste– but you loved them all the same.

Adon and your family had always got along. Inventors, creators, artists; always had a way of finding one another. A grin spread across your face as you watched the magical cart faithfully follow behind you, its load of art supplies in tow.

With the box of paints slung over your shoulder and the magical cart clomping behind you, you quickly winnowed yourself and the cart to the bottom of the stairs of the House of wind. The ascent was long and tiring, the cart creaking behind you with each step as if groaning in agreement. Nonetheless, you pressed on, each step bringing you closer to the top of winding stairs above.

You hadn’t visited the House of Wind before, though you knew it was home to Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta. As you climbed, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see where your mate lived, to catch a glimpse into a part of his life that you hadn't yet experienced.

What did his bedroom look like? How had he chosen to decorate his sanctuary? You imagined him amidst his personal haven, perhaps surrounded by books. You always found him rummaging through your collection whenever he visited you.

Azriel had described the breathtaking view from the House of Wind, mentioning how Velaris looked like a radiant jewel at night from this vantage point. You would love to experience that firsthand with him by your side.

Azriel had frequented your apartment numerous times, often citing the need for privacy away from his family. Yet, a nagging worry lingered in your mind—that perhaps you weren't entirely welcome. You noted the absence of Cassian and Mor since your initial encounter, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you might not be fully embraced within their circle. With this being Cassian’s home too, maybe you weren’t welcome here.

You had been working to mend bridges, taking steps to forge a stronger connection with Azriel’s family. Attending Feyre’s painting classes was your first effort, an easier one as you and Feyre were already friendly acquaintances and had a common passion for art. It was clear though that Feyre appreciated your efforts, especially considering the tension that had surfaced after her sister's outburst at the brunch. She had confided in you that she was worried that it may have caused a rift, but you assured her that was all water under the bridge. You even hoped with time you, Elain and Azriel could all be on better terms.

Feyre had smiled at that when you told her, and she’d made a point one evening when the inner circle had gone out to Ritas to tell Azriel how much she liked you.

You were desperate to see what life he had behind these walls– and of course, everything outside of these walls. You wanted to explore every aspect of Azriel’s life. The recent challenges in your relationship had been daunting, yet you couldn’t deny how much closer it had brought you together.

You were really beginning to feel like a unified pair.

Ten weeks ago, the enigmatic Shadowsinger had been a mere acquaintance, a figure shrouded in mystery. But in this brief span of time, you had already unravelled the layers of one another. Learning, growing and figuring out how to trust.

And you wanted more of it.

You hadn’t accepted the bond yet, in fact neither of you had even discussed that. But one thing was becoming clear, you wanted Azriel in your life. The desire to intertwine your destinies grew stronger with each passing moment. Whether that be spent in your apartment, exploring the depths of your power together, or the late-night walks down the winding Sidra, hand in hand. When he surprises you with your favourite pastries to coax you away from your work or those tender moments when your lips meet his that give you a sense of completeness.

You wanted it all and more.

You just needed to let him know.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you were met with the imposing sight of the grand doors of the House of Wind. Crafted from rich, dark wood and adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of the mountains beyond the court, the doors stood tall and powerful.

Hesitating for a moment, you stole a glance at the magical cart, which creaked awkwardly on its newly formed legs. With a slight chuckle, you steadied yourself and approached the doors. Raising your hand, you rapped your knuckles against the sturdy wood, the sound echoing through the house.

As the grand doors swung open at your gentle knock, you called out for Feyre, but the only response was the hollow echo of your voice reverberating through the vast space. Undeterred, you stepped inside, the sound of your footsteps echoing on the stone floor as the creaking cart followed closely behind.

"Hello, anyone here? I've got a delivery," you called out again, your voice carrying through the silence of the empty halls.

How peculiar.

No one seemed to be around.

As you ventured further into the house, you couldn't help but marvel at its grandeur, realising just how humble the River House seemed in comparison. And River House was not humble by any means. It really highlighted the multitude of wealth they had, wealth they deserved, of course. It was their court, after all. But still, it was a stark difference to the tiny apartment you rented, which, at times, felt too small for both you and Azriel when he visited.

Each room you passed seemed to exude luxury and elegance, from the richly decorated walls adorned with exquisite paintings to the lavish furnishings.

It was all beautiful. But you preferred your cosy apartment– with it’s crooked walls and low ceilings.

Entering a spacious room with an open door, you noticed a few canvases leaning against the wall, indicating that this might be another one of Feyre's studios – or at least you hoped so. You had called out numerous times, even calling out for Azriel and his shadows in case he was around. You didn’t want to appear snooping, but with no one to greet you, you really needed to get back to your workshop.

Placing the box of paints in the centre of the room, you turned to address the magical cart, which had faithfully followed you every step of the way. Its wooden form creaked softly as it shifted.

"I guess we'll just leave them here for her," you said, turning your attention back to the cart, ready to start unloading its contents. But before you could even begin, the cart suddenly jumped, startling you.

"What in the cauldron!” You exclaimed with a fright, you knew Adon’s inventions could be quirky, but this behaviour was odd– even for him. “What is wrong with you?" you asked, frustration creeping into your voice as you tried to make sense of the cart's erratic behaviour.

Stepping closer to the cart again to try and pry a tool out, it quickly creaked towards the open door, its wooden legs trembling slightly as if hesitant to comply with your command.

As it reached the doorway, it turned to you as if giving you one last glance before quickly running out. The doors slammed shut with a resounding thud, leaving you trapped inside.

You felt the energy of the room shift, the goosebumps rising under your skin. Clutching your arms, you rolled lightly on your feet, trying to dispel the growing unease.

"Feyre... was that you?" You nervously called out with a light laugh, attempting to lighten the tension that had settled in the air.

Perhaps she was playing a trick on you?

Maybe. But something didn’t feel right, that feeling– that instinct was telling you to leave. Before your feet could carry you towards the shut door a familiar voice broke.

"I'm afraid my beautiful mate isn't here right now," the voice said, sending a shiver down your spine as you recognised it instantly.

You turned slowly towards the voice. "Oh... hello, Rhys," you managed to say, trying to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. "I'm just here to deliver an order... but I'm really sorry, half of it has just run off," you added with a nervous chuckle, gesturing over your shoulder to where the magical cart had disappeared.

As Rhys stepped out from the corner where he had seemingly been concealed by glamour, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Glancing back at the closed door, your nerves spiked even further when you saw Amren standing there, her expression unreadable.

Your instincts screamed at you that this encounter was anything but ordinary. It wasn’t Feyre who had asked you to deliver, you realised, an unsettling feeling sinking in your gut. For a moment, you felt like a deer trapped between her prey.

They had lured you here.

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you found yourself tensing, trying to keep your composure as Rhys and Amren closed in on you. Facing your High Lord, you attuned your senses to Amren, who stood by the door behind you.

She was blocking it, guarding it, to stop you from leaving.

“I better go retrieve the rest of Feyre’s order,” you smiled lightly, testing where you stood in this. Rhys only half-smiled in return. Amren hadn’t moved from her spot, and you knew there was no way you were getting past her.

“You know, I never would have known. All these years, your family has slipped through the cracks,” Rhys said, walking now, slowly circling you.

Not entirely true.

Just like Azriel, it was clear Rhys was completely unaware how his own father had used your father in the war.

“Your family did a great job hiding themselves for all these years. Gods, I didn’t even know your kind existed,” he chuckled darkly, his imposing presence exuding an authority you hadn't experienced when you met him among his family and with Azriel prior.

You didn’t reply, only glanced slightly over your shoulder to Amren. She stood stiff, her expression still the same.

“If you had chosen anything other than a spider... well, I wouldn’t have known anything was amiss.” Rhys continued. “What an incy, wincy mistake.” he chided, and you felt your jaw clench at his slight mocking tone.

“You see, around 300 years ago, I put up a ward on River House. For Mor. She hates spiders, detests the creatures, and would beg me to eliminate them from the Night Court altogether. For her birthday one year, I granted her the gift of a particular ward that doesn’t allow them in any of our homes. River House, her apartment, here…” he trailed off, lifting his hands in the air gesturing to the house you were now standing in.

You'd made a grave mistake. The innocent creation of that little spider, once a mere impulsive act, now weighed heavily as regret seeped in. The consequences of that fleeting decision were far greater than you had anticipated. It wasn't necessary; it was merely a childish impulse, a fleeting desire to provoke a reaction from Elain. Yet, that seemingly innocuous choice had now jeopardised everything you held dear.

The walls you had painstakingly built to protect yourself and the promise you had made to your father were crumbling before your eyes.

"Of course, this isn't widely known, so only Mor and I would have been aware of any intrusions in my home. And well when trying to figure out why this creature was in my home I realised the only new variable in the equation was you" Rhysand explained, his tone laced with a darkness that unnerved you.

“Rhysand…your High Lord, you’ve got this all wrong…” you interjected, stumbling over your words as you desperately tried to change the narrative. Deep down though, you knew that it was too late.

“I wouldn’t have known what you were, but luckily, lovely Amren here clocked onto something too.”

“Your blood,” she spoke flatly, as you recalled the nosebleed that had come after creating your first creation from your mind’s eye. “My senses aren’t as particular as they were before, but when I smelt your blood, I recognised something ancient.”

“You’ve got it all wrong…” you countered, hoping to stall for time while you formulated a plan.

“Oh I don’t believe we do.” Rhys declared. He stood a metre in front of you now, his stature intimidating, and you desperately fought against stepping back. You needed to hold your own, but you were feeling out of your depth.

Scared, ambushed and outnumbered.

"Your bloodline is rare," Amren remarked, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "And your kind are secretive. I never thought I'd meet one of you in my lifetime."

You remained silent, watching their every move.

But Amren's flat tone cut through the air like a blade. "I believe you're a Glyphic. Or more commonly known, a Veilweaver," she stated matter-of-factly, sending shivers down your spine at the names you hadn't heard yourself be called in centuries.

Rhysand, however, was less intrigued. "You've been living in my court undetected," he accused, his voice laced with irritation. "Deception is not something I take lightly."

Was it the deceit that troubled him more, or the realisation that your powers were beyond his ability to detect?

"I've never caused any problems..." you began, your words faltering as you tried to mount a defence.

"Yet," Rhys interjected sharply, cutting off your protest. His gaze bore into you with an intensity that made you squirm. "Veilweavers are powerful and dangerous," Rhys continued, his tone unwavering. "And I need to ensure you're not a threat to my court—or my brother."

As Rhysand advanced, his talons reached out, probing against your mental defences in an attempt to breach your mind. With every ounce of strength you possessed, you pushed back, feeling the strain of the effort as you fought to keep him out.

They didn't suspect that Azriel knew your secret, a realisation that weighed heavily upon you. What would they do if they discovered he had kept this from them? Azriel, the Spymaster of the Night Court, had always prioritised his court and family above all else. But now, for the first time, there was someone he would choose to protect above all others.

You.

You couldn't allow Rhysand to breach your mind.

Rhys lunged forward, his mental talons clawing at the barriers of your mind, seeking to break your defences. In a moment of desperation and self-preservation, you called forth a creature to defend yourself.

You reached into the depths of your mind to summon your power, a surge of energy rippled through your being, tingling at your fingertips like electric currents dancing along your skin. In your mind's eye, you saw flashes of vivid imagery, intricate patterns swirling and shifting with ethereal grace. It was as if you were tapping into a hidden realm, a reservoir of ancient magic waiting to be unleashed.

Yet, beneath the awe-inspiring beauty, there was a subtle undercurrent of unease, a whisper of uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. You were standing against your High Lord–your mates brother.

You had to protect yourself though. Protect your mind, and the secret Azriel had kept from his High Lord.

In this moment, as you conjured forth your guardian, you pushed aside those doubts. The black sleek panther materialised with a fluid grace, its form exuding strength and determination, a sentinel ready to defend you against any threat.

The air crackled with tension as Rhysand and Amren exchanged a knowing glance, their previous suspicions confirmed by the display of your power. Their expressions shifted, morphing into a mixture of wariness as they assessed the situation before them.

Amren couldn't conceal the faint smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips as she regarded you and the magnificent creature you had summoned. You were exactly what she had suspected, a Glyphic with untapped potential and formidable abilities.

With a menacing growl, your panther confronted Rhysand, causing him to momentarily retract his mental talons. However, his resolve remained steadfast.

"Rhys, please. Can we talk this out?" You pleaded, desperation lacing your words as you locked eyes with him, searching for any glimmer of understanding or mercy. Your heart raced with fear and uncertainty. You didn't want to fight them, didn't want to inflict harm, nor be harmed in return. But above all, you were determined to protect the sanctity of your mind, a territory that was yours alone– and of course protect Azriel.

For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though Rhys's steely gaze softened, a hint of the warmth you had glimpsed in him during your encounters at River House. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by an impenetrable mask.

There was no Rhys here, no. Only the Lord of the Night.

Your hands trembled at your sides, the strain of maintaining your creation evident in every tense muscle of your body. Beads of sweat trickled down your temple, mirroring the intensity of your concentration as you fought to keep your panther strong and fighting. Despite the chaos and danger surrounding you, there was a strange beauty in the powerful presence of your manifestation. If circumstances were different, you might have felt a swell of pride at what you had achieved.

Azriel would be proud too.

Azriel, your mate. Your beautiful mate.

Who you didn’t deserve.

All you could feel was guilt and despair. The troubles and problems you had brought him, he deserved someone better. Someone like Elain.

Rhys was watching over you. Your heavy breaths, your clenched fists and scared gaze. As much as Rhys may have wanted to extend you the benefit of the doubt, the stakes were too high, the risks too great.

He couldn’t trust your word, he had to know for himself.

Rhysand made another attempt to breach your mind, his talons digging deep in a relentless pursuit. In response, your panther sprang into action, launching itself at Rhysand with a primal ferocity. Yet, before it could reach its target, Rhysand unleashed a surge of magic, sending the panther hurtling across the room with a powerful force.

You shouldn't have been surprised; after all, it was only the second time you had conjured a creature from your mind's eye. Inexperienced in the art of combat, you had never faced such a dire situation before. You were no match for them.

But a small part of you had hoped that maybe your fathers strength was somewhere lingering within you. Just waiting to be unleashed.

You were wrong.

As Rhysand's magic collided with your manifestation, the impact reverberated through your own body like a physical blow. There was a sickening snap as your panther was hurled against the wall, its body twisting unnaturally upon impact. The sound of bone breaking echoed in your ears, and you couldn't suppress a strangled scream as searing pain lanced through your own being.

Tears welled in your eyes as you collapsed to the ground, the pain radiating from your body in pulsating waves. Every breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the bond you shared with the creature now lying broken before you. The panther's breaths synced with yours, while you tried to muster your strength to get it back on its feet.

You recalled the memories of your father's teachings. He had always been your guiding light, imparting his wisdom and cautioning you about the dangers of your power. But after that fateful night, when the darkness had consumed you as a child and birthed a beast of anger, he had grown distant with his knowledge, shielding you from the full extent of your abilities.

That night you created the beast, your father had intervened, severing the connection between you and the creature with a pain that echoed through your very being. It was a harsh lesson, one that left scars emotionally.

In the aftermath, he had spoken of a way to disconnect yourself from your creations' pain, a method that required time and dedication to master. Something you had actively avoided doing because of his promise, you’re not sure if he ever realised how detrimental that promise would end up being for you.

Your creations were an extension of your own power, their pain intertwined with yours in a delicate dance of symbiosis. Without mastering this crucial aspect of your abilities, you would forever be shackled by the limitations of your own creations.

There was no way to sever yourself from this agony, and you lacked the strength to mend and revive your creation. Your only choice was to sever the bond, and as you did, the magnificent panther dissolved into the air, fading away along with the pain of it’s demise.

"Rhys…" Amren hissed, her hand outstretched in a futile attempt to halt him as she observed how effortlessly Rhys had subdued the formidable beast. They had misjudged the situation entirely. Expecting a powerful force, they were instead faced with you– a broken female, unable to rise to her feet.

Rhys's expression faltered, his resolve wavering momentarily as he hesitated to approach. But before he could make a move, the room was engulfed in shadow, familiar tendrils enveloping your body and vision. You recognised the cool touch of the shadows attempting to draw you into their embrace.

A tear slipped down your face and you shivered under their whispered kisses. You felt your own shadow curl up by your face to comfort you.

Through the shroud of darkness, Azriel had burst into the room, his presence commanding and protective. With a forceful shove, he knocked Amren off balance and launched himself at Rhysand, the two of them colliding with a resounding crash as they tumbled into the wall in a rough and chaotic struggle.

"I’m going to kill you, Rhys!" Azriel's voice thundered with fury, a darkness in his hazel eyes Rhys had never experienced before.

Taken aback by Azriel's sudden aggression, Rhysand attempted to interject with an explanation, but Azriel silenced him with a swift, powerful punch that connected squarely with his jaw. Rhys staggered backward, his hand flying to his face as he recoiled from the blow.

Azriel surged forward with unparalleled strength, his muscles coiled with the raw intensity of his fury. With a swift motion, he seized his brother by the throat, their bodies rocketing upwards until they collided with the ceiling in a deafening crash. The ancient stone quivered under the force of their impact, dislodging dust and debris.

Rhysand fought against Azriel's grasp, his attempts to explain drowned out by the primal rage burning in his brother's eyes. At that moment, Azriel wanted nothing but retribution.

He wanted blood.

He had felt your panic echoing through the bond, a visceral tug that had torn him away from his duties in the Illyrian camps.

As soon as the sensation had washed over him, he knew something was wrong. His instincts honed in on your distress, guiding him unerringly toward the House of Wind. With Cassian at his side, he had winnowed as close as possible before bursting into the house.

It was the sound of your scream that had pierced through him. Physically and mentally sending a wave of fear through him, turning his blood cold as he raced towards you.

Blood was drawn as shards of stone lacerated the brothers skin, leaving trails of crimson in their wake. Azriel's shadows danced around them, swirling with unrestrained fury as he fought his High Lord.

With a primal roar, Azriel seized Rhysand by the shoulders, his wings beating with a furious rhythm as he drove them both downward. They plummeted toward the unforgiving stone floor, their descent hastened by the force of Azriel's relentless assault.

Rhysand had endured Azriel's onslaught, absorbing blow after blow with a heavy heart. Rhys had refused to retaliate. He couldn't bring himself to harm his own brother, even in the midst of their heated conflict.

Yet, as Azriel's relentless assault continued, Rhysand knew he had to act. With a surge, he summoned his magic, channelling it into a devastating blast that sent Azriel staggering backward.

"I thought she could have been a threat to our court," Rhys began, his voice strained with the weight of his words. He wanted Azriel to understand, to see the danger he believed you posed.

But before he could elaborate further, Cassian burst into the fray, positioning himself between the warring brothers like a stalwart shield. He could see the venom dripping from Azriel's eyes, the sheer intensity of his rage.

"She is not a threat," Azriel spat, his words dripping with conviction.

Rhys opened his mouth to respond, to plead his case once more, but then it clicked. As the realisation dawned on him, it echoed through the chamber like a thunderous revelation. Cassian's expression mirrored his own.

Betrayal.

"You already knew..." Rhys's voice wavered, the sting of betrayal lacing every syllable. His brother had been keeping your secret all along, hiding the truth from him and from his court.

“Of course I knew, brother,” Azriel almost laughed, his tone tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation. “She is my mate.”

“You should have told us,” Rhys growled, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Cassian shot him a warning look, silently urging him to remain calm.

Regardless of what Azriel had withheld, Rhys had caused harm to Azriel’s mate– you. Someone who by the looks of it was completely helpless against him.

“My duty as spymaster is to protect the court. Keeping this from you, doesn't change that,” Azriel growled, his stance unwavering.

As tensions escalated, Rhys and Azriel found themselves locked in a heated exchange. Cassian intervened, pushing them apart before things could escalate further. “You will not fight over this,” Cassian hissed, his voice firm and commanding.

Meanwhile, Amren shook her head in disbelief, a dawning realisation settling over her features. "She is a danger, though," Amren spoke up, her words carrying an unexpected truth. "She's weak," she concluded bluntly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You flinched at the assessment, feeling a pang of insecurity at the criticism.

Since disolving your creation, the pain had largely subsided, but a dull ache lingered in your head, and your body felt weary and drained. Amren's words rang true. You felt weak, you were weak. Centuries had passed without honing your ability. You were nothing like your ancestors or your father. You weren’t a force to be reckoned with.

"If a Daemati broke into her mind, took hold of her powers, gods know the chaos that would ensue," Rhysand understood instantly by what Amren warned, his tone grave.

You mulled over their words, the weight of their implications sinking in. Your years of hiding your abilities had left you unprepared and vulnerable, a potential threat to those around you. You had always feared your powers, but now it seemed that your lack of control made you vulnerable to manipulation and exploitation.

Your father had wanted you to lay low, so you wouldn’t be found.But you were now left too weak to defend yourself if someone did want to exploit you.

"Don't think for a second that as soon as others find out she's your mate, that she won't instantly have a target on her back," Rhysand continued grimly. "And if the wrong person realises what she is..."

"We're doomed," Amren finished, her expression grave as she contemplated the dire consequences of your revelation.

As Amren's words sink in, snapping Azriel out of his murderous gaze directed at Rhys, to contemplate what she had just revealed to him.

An oversight on his part. But what Amren had said was true.

The tension in the room eased slightly, and you feel the shadows enveloping you, aiding you as you rise to your feet. They offer silent support, keeping you steady.

For the first time since entering the room, Azriel's gaze shifts from his brothers to you. His eyes, usually so intense and focused, soften as he takes in your scared and bewildered expression. Without hesitation, he moves away from Rhysand and Cassian, striding purposefully toward you.

As Azriel reaches you, he pulls you into a protective embrace, his wings wrapping around you like a shield. You lean into his comforting presence, feeling the tension drain from your body as his warmth surrounds you. His lips press gently against the top of your head.

In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only you and Azriel locked in an embrace.

"Where are you hurt?" His voice is soft and gentle, filled with genuine concern. You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you. The physical pain may have subsided with the disappearance of your panther, but the emotional turmoil still lingered.

You felt the tears slowly start to roll down your face, and soft cry finally leaving your lips now in the safety of Azriel.

Azriel pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face "It's okay my love" he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "I've got you."

At his reassurance, you lean into Azriel's chest, trying to stifle the cry that wells up inside you. Fear and worry wash over you as you recall the events that led to this moment.

Cassian watches with concern as Azriel comforts you, exchanging a bewildered glance with Rhys, silently questioning how things escalated to this point. Amren's expression remains stoic, but a hint of guilt flickers in her eyes, easily missed if one didn't know where to look.

"I didn't mean for things to escalate this way. We thought... I got it wrong," Rhys spoke, his voice laced with regret as he attempted to bridge the growing chasm between him and his brother.

Azriel's snarl cut through the air, his eyes narrowing with barely contained fury at Rhys's attempts to explain away his actions.

"I want them out," Azriel declared, his tone firm as he turned to Cassian, seeking support in his decision.

Though it was Cassian and Nesta's home, technically no one could demand the High Lord to leave anywhere in his court. Cassian glanced between Rhys and Amren, considering the situation carefully.

"I think it's best you leave for now," Cassian finally agreed, his voice steady as he made the difficult decision to ask Rhys and Amren to depart, at least temporarily, in order to diffuse the tension.

Rhys, though visibly disappointed, nods in acquiescence, understanding the need to de-escalate the situation. Amren's expression remains inscrutable, but she follows Rhys's lead without protest.

As they turn to leave, Rhys casts a lingering glance in your direction, his eyes conveying a mixture of apology and concern. Azriel, still holding you protectively in his arms, watches them go with a steely resolve, his jaw clenched.

Once Rhys and Amren depart, Cassian releases a heavy sigh, the tension in the room easing slightly. He shifts his gaze to you and Azriel, his expression softening with concern.

"Is there anything I can do Az?" he asks, genuine worry etched into his features. Azriel shakes his head, there was nothing Cassian could do to change what had occurred, to fix the damage between Azriel and Rhys. Nothing.

The only thing Azriel knew he could do was make you feel better. So that was his priority.

~~~

As Azriel guides you through the labyrinth of corridors of the House of Wind, the shadows cling to you protectively, reluctant to release their hold as if fearing they may never reunite with you. Eventually, you reach a door that yields effortlessly to Azriel's touch, unveiling a room bathed in gentle, muted light.

The space is expansive yet cosy, its walls cloaked in opulent hues of midnight blue and charcoal grey. The air carries a subtle fragrance of sandalwood and cedar, a scent uniquely Azriel's. Its familiar aroma envelops you, instantly calming your senses.

Against one wall looms a colossal four-poster bed, its imposing ebony frame swathed in cascading layers of sumptuous silk and velvet. The sheer size of it dwarfs your own bed by comparison, a necessity to accommodate those expansive Illyrian wings. Azriel must have been so uncomfortable staying at yours all those nights.

In one corner of the room, a large desk sits bathed in moonlight, its surface cluttered with scrolls, books, and various trinkets. A dimly glowing orb hovers above it, casting a soft glow over the room and illuminating Azriel's meticulous handwriting scrawled across the parchment.

Above his desk, shelves displayed an eclectic assortment of trinkets: a meticulously carved wooden box adorned with intricate designs, an assortment of books—some familiar to you, yet seemingly untouched, while others appeared brand new.

In one corner, four small jars of paint caught your attention. Your paints. You hadn't realised he had obtained them, and a furrow formed between your brows as you pondered when he might have acquired them. Shadow Serenade, Velvet Veil, Starry Whispers, Nightfall Cries. These were the shades you had created in that first week after the bond had snapped. You remembered how thoughts of the Shadowsigner had consumed you to a point of it channelling out into your work. Each jar held a hue evocative of the Spymaster himself. He of course knew about Shadow Serenade, but how he had come to acquire the other shades you weren’t so sure.

You pondered if perhaps you had a secret customer in him. The paints shimmered within their glass containers, casting ethereal light across the room.

On the opposite side, a cosy seating area beckons with plush armchairs and a low, velvet-covered chaise lounge. A small fireplace crackles softly in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the room and adding to the room's warm ambiance.

“The bath is ready for you” Azriel spoke, breaking you away from your lingering glances across his room and belongings. “I thought a hot bath would make you feel better” He continued, gently guiding you into his wash room.

A large ornate tub sat in the centre of the room, steam rising from the water nearly to the brim. You noticed the unique shape of the tub, clearly designed to accommodate Azriel's massive wings.

For a fleeting moment, you imagined what it would be like to share this space with Azriel.

Bathe with him.

As if reading your mind, your own little shadow curled round your ear.

Ask him to join you.

You instantly blushed at the notion, wafting away the naughty little creation, as you hoped Azriel or his own shadows hadn’t heard.

You swore you heard it giggle before it resumed its quiet chanting of praises towards your mate. But Azriel remained unchanged, his face still etched with concern, his priority seemingly you and your well-being.

"Clothes for you to change into are here," he continued, gesturing towards a set of garments. "I'll be just outside."

Azriel paused, allowing you a moment to take in your surroundings. Your gaze settled on the clothes neatly laid out, an arrangement you assumed was the work of his shadows, before you gave him a small nod of acknowledgment. As he left, closing the door to the washroom behind him, you took a moment to study yourself in the mirror. The reflection revealed tear-stained cheeks and a wearied expression.

Gods, you looked a mess. No wonder Azriel had suggested a wash.

Despite being the one involved in the altercation, he only had a few scratches and dust on his clothing, he still looked as beautiful as ever—strong and defiant. You, on the other hand, looked quite the opposite. As you peeled off your overalls, the fabric clinging to your skin with a thin layer of sweat accumulated during the exertion of your abilities.

You hadn't realised how much you needed a hot bath, but it turned out to be the perfect remedy to wash away the anxieties of what had happened earlier. Sinking your whole body into the warm water, with just enough to keep your nose above the surface, you allowed the hot water to soothe the aches of your body.

You’re not sure how long you stayed there, but regardless of the duration, the water didn’t cool. It was hot and toasty– thanks to the house’s magic you assumed.

Once you were dry, you slipped into the clothes left on the side for you. It wasn’t until you were halfway through pulling the shirt over your head that you realised it must have belonged to Azriel. The size and the two slits down the back panels designed to accommodate his wings were dead giveaways. The faint scent of his laundry detergent lingered, a comforting familiarity that enveloped you as you dressed.

Tugging on the loose jersey pants and cinching the drawstring around your waist, another of Azriel’s clothing you assumed. Although you’d never seen him wear something so casual before, and it made you want to see this part of him even more.The thought of a more relaxed Azriel, lounging around his bedroom in sweats with a book in hand, intrigued you. It made you hungry for a version of him you hadn’t experienced yet.

You returned to the bedroom, a sense of calm now settled after your bath. As you moved into the armchair by the fireplace, Azriel approaches with a tray of food in hand. His expression is determined, yet there's a tenderness in his eyes that speaks volumes.

"I want you to eat," he says firmly, his voice tinged with concern. You hesitate, glancing at the tray of food he’s arranged. A hot bowl of soup, with slices of fresh warm bread on the side.

It smelt delicious.

Plates with slices of cheeses and meats with grapes, and other sliced fruits adorned the tray. It looked delightful, but you weren’t really sure you had an appetite after everything that had happened.

"I don't think I'm hungry," you murmur softly, your gaze dropping to the floor.

"Don't make me force-feed you," Azriel responds, his tone gentle yet firm. Your brows raised slightly at his statement, and he sighed with a soft smile “I’m driving myself crazy here, I just need to know you’re okay. I’ll feel better when I know you’ve eaten something. What you went through…was intense” he admitted, his protective instincts clearly in overdrive.

You nod slowly, understanding his concern, and reluctantly take the plate from the tray. Despite your lack of appetite, you decide that a few spoonfuls of soup won’t hurt. And if it can ease your mate's worry, then you’d do it for him.

Balancing the tray on your lap, you scoop up a spoonful of soup and bring it to your lips. The flavours dance on your tongue, surprisingly rich and satisfying. Despite not feeling hungry just moments ago, the warm, wholesome meal feels comforting and perks your appetite.

Across from you, Azriel settles into his armchair, his gaze unwavering. As you finish the last spoonful of soup and dip a piece of bread into the bowl, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, relief evident in his eyes.

You set the tray back on the low coffee table in front of you, popping a grape into your mouth before finally glancing up at your mate. You hoped to see satisfaction in his expression, a sense of relief that you had nourished yourself enough. However, when you met his gaze, a sadness lurked in his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings.

"I was so scared," he confesses suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I felt your fear through the bond, and then when I heard you scream... I thought I was going to lose you."

His words hung heavy in the air, and your expression dropped as you swiftly moved to comfort your mate. Seeking solace in each other, he drew you closer, pulling you onto his lap with a tender embrace. As he buried his face into the side of your neck, you whispered softly, your voice filled with gratitude, "I would have felt the same if it was you." Your breath caught as you expressed the depth of your emotions. The mere thought of Azriel being hurt, of him being in danger, stirred a visceral reaction within you, a gut-wrenching turmoil.

The bond that tethered you both together was profound and all-encompassing. You understood, with unwavering certainty, that you would do anything for this male. You would protect him, even at the cost of your own life.

Just as he had threatened Rhys. You would kill for Azriel. And you would also die for him.

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at you, his scarred hand cupping your cheek gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles.

“Thank you” you whispered “For coming for me.”

“Always” He said deeply, your forehead resting against his as you straddled him.

Your lips naturally found their place on his. A kiss quickly deepened at the raw magnitude of what had happened today. The fear Azriel had experienced, the dread of losing you, had gripped him with a relentless force. He never wanted to face that possibility.

Despite the truth in Amren's words, acknowledging your vulnerabilities and limitations, at this moment, all Azriel desired was to cherish what he feared he might have lost.

There was an unspoken understanding, a silent exchange echoing down the bond, as you felt Azriel's desperation and the depth of his fear. You longed to assuage his anxiety, to offer him solace and reassurance.

Pulling back slightly from the kiss, your breaths mingling in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Azriel regarded you with darkened hazel eyes, silently anticipating your next move. A familiar look passed between you, one laden with unspoken desire that had lingered unexplored until now. With a gentle touch, you took his hand and guided him to his bed, wordlessly conveying your intentions as you led him to his plush sheets.

Azriel bit back a low guttural growl, watching as you climbed onto his bed.

You lay on his bed, draped on his sheets, wearing his clothes. It was an image he wanted to etch into his memory forever.

“There’s never been any pressure, no expectations,” he whispered, standing at the side as if seeking reassurance of your intentions.

No expectations.

He had promised you that after the bond snapped, and he had stayed true to his word. Always the gentleman, never pressuring you. Always moving at your pace.

“I know Azriel” you breathed, in a way that spoke of permission.

Azriel took a breath, steadying himself as he comprehended the significance of your invitation before climbing over you. He hovered over you, settling his weight above, his presence reassuring and protective. Your head sank into the plush pillows beneath, and he moved over you with a predatory grace.

“I was so worried I was going to lose you today…” he breathed. Your hand had come to caress the side of his neck, pulling his face closer to you.

“There was a moment I realised too that if I lost you today…” You were watching him, as his desire filled eyes turned darker “I would have lost you without ever having the chance to taste you”

His confession sent a shiver down your spine, goosebumps covering your body under his clothes you were wearing. Your nipples perked at his words, rubbing against the fabric.

“Then thank the cauldron you didn’t lose me…” You breathed playfully back, your face hot at his words. He let out a low laugh.

“Thank the cauldron indeed” He purred, leaning in to press his lips against yours. His lips slowly move down your neck, leaving flushed kisses on your skin. His fingers tugged at his shirt on you, hastily unbuttoning the black material till your breasts were exposed to him.

You thought you saw him almost choke on his breath at the sight.

His hazel eyes lighting with glint you hadn’t seen before.

“You are beautiful my love” he breathed, his voice husky with desire. The sound of his words made your heart race, the intensity of his gaze causing a surge of heat to pool in your core.

Azriel's lips trailed down from your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. As he reached your exposed breasts, he hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, seeking permission. The air crackled with anticipation as you nodded, giving him silent consent.

His touch was gentle yet possessive as he cupped your breast in his scarred large hand, his thumb grazing over your nipple. A soft gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, and Azriel's eyes darkened with desire. Leaning down, he placed a heated kiss on each of your peaks, his tongue flicking out to tease before sucking gently.

You bit your lip lightly, to try and compose any sound that dared leave your lips.

“Don’t be shy my love, I want to hear you” Azriel smirked slightly, as he watched your lips then part with his words. A breathy moan escaping your lips.

Azriel could feel his own heat rush to his member, it was hard and pressing tightly against his trousers, but he continued on. Trailing kisses lower down your body, his breath hot against your skin. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a hunger that had been simmering between you both.

You’re not sure how you had resisted for so long. You had felt the desire mounting with every kiss you had shared before, and now you hated yourself a little for depriving yourself of this.

You could feel his rough fingers tugging at the drawband of your pants, slowly pulling them down over your hip bone. He looked at you one last time before completely removing them, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Lying exposed beneath him, you could feel his eyes devouring every inch of your naked body. He was mesmerised by every crevice, curve, freckle, and scar that marked your skin. Grateful to have you, he couldn't help but touch and explore you - his mate, completely and utterly his.

His gaze lingered over your slick folds, glistening with a wetness that was just for him. The scent of you drove him wild, though he had only experienced it a few times before during those intimate moments that always finished too early. It took all of his self-control not to ravish you then and there.

But now, he could. You had given yourself to him in this way, completely and utterly his. His hazel eyes lingered for another moment, a softness in his gaze as he admired your flushed face. Hair sprawled beneath your head.

You had a coy look in your eyes, being so vulnerable and open in front of him. Azriel was grateful you trusted him enough for this, he was going to cherish every moment.

His fingers traced the curve of your hip, you arched your back, inviting him closer. A low growl rumbled in his chest as his gaze locked with yours, promising that this was just the beginning. With a predatory grace, he leaned down and placed a soft, warm kiss on your inner thigh.

You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as his lips continued to travel lower, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake.

His fingers danced over your flesh, tracing the delicate lines of your thighs, his touch feather-light as he explored every inch. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly that at one point you felt as though that was all you could hear.

You were sure he could sense your arousal through the bond, and you almost sent a begging plea down the thread for him to touch you.

With a playful glint in his eyes, as if understanding, his lips finally reached their destination, your core. You felt a wave of intensity wash over you. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan that quickly left your lips, as his tongue danced across your sensitive flesh. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, allowing him complete access.

Azriel's tongue dipped into you, savouring the taste of you, his eyes never leaving yours. You arched your back, your nails digging into the pillow beneath you as his tongue probed deeper, coaxing a soft cry from your lips.

Azriel wanted to hear that cry more. Every day, at any moment he could get. He wanted to hear those sounds leave your lips. A sound he would never tire of.

The pleasure built, a fierce storm of emotion that threatened to consume you whole. Your heart pounded wildly, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as his tongue stroked and teased.

He plunged his fingers inside you, filling you completely. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming, causing you to cry out his name.

“Azriel…oh Az…”

When he heard his name leave your lips he had to stop himself from cumming at the sound. He was completely drunk on the taste and smell of you, that the sound of you almost sent him over the edge.

Azriel's fingers moved in and out of you, in a rhythm that was both possessive and tender. His thumb brushed against your most sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He was coaxing you to climax, and you could feel the tension building inside you, like a coiled spring about to release.

Your body responded to his touch, the muscles of your core clenching and releasing around his fingers. Your fingers were tangled in his dark hair, flexing and pulling with every clench of your core. Your breaths grew shallower. You could feel the orgasm building, a powerful wave crashing towards you, threatening to consume you whole.

And then, just as you thought you couldn't take any more, he withdrew his fingers and began to lap at your core, his tongue darting and flicking against you. The pleasure was almost too much, each lick and suck driving you closer and closer.

“That’s it angel, let go for me” Azriel spoke between each lick, choosing now to try a new nickname for you.

With a cry of pure ecstasy, you finally reached the peak, your body convulsing as the orgasm washed over you. Your moans and cries were loud, and they felt like music to Azriel’s ears. You could feel his fingers on your hip, his thumbs stroking your skin, and the heat of his lips as he continued to pleasure you as you rode out your orgasm.

As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, he purred, sending vibrations through your core. "You taste amazing,"

You breathed out, a tone filled with lust .”I want to taste you too…” Azriel growled at the thought and pressed his hardness against the mattress.

"Not today, my love. Today, I just want to make you feel good." Despite your attempt to shake your head, his lips reattached themselves to your sensitive bud, sucking lazily and sending shivers down your spine. It felt too good for you to resist or challenge him.

You lost count of the number of times Azriel made you climax; his name had been moaned for what seemed like hours before exhaustion started to take over. He slowly made his way back up your naked body, his eyes devouring every curve before settling on yours with a tender gaze. He laid beside you, pulling the sheets over your exposed body and pulling you into a tight embrace.

Soft kisses were pressed to your temple as sleep began to overtake you.

"I will thank the cauldron every day for allowing you to be mine."

~~~

Next Part >> Hopefully before the end of the month

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