Isla's POV

The first time Azriel's shadows saved me, I thought it was a coincidence.

I was wandering the streets of Velaris late at night, lost in my thoughts. My powers—whatever they truly were—had been acting up again. Unpredictable and dangerous, they stirred inside me like a storm, refusing to be tamed. It was becoming harder to control them, harder to stay grounded.

I should have stayed inside, but the walls of the townhouse felt too close, too stifling. So, I walked. The quiet streets and cool night air offered some relief, even if my thoughts didn't.

I turned down a dimly lit alleyway, taking a long way back to clear my head. But halfway through, something felt off. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, a warning that I wasn't alone.

I heard footsteps behind me—heavy, deliberate. I quickened my pace, trying not to panic. The footsteps matched my speed, closing the distance. My heart pounded in my chest, and just as I was about to break into a run, they appeared.

Azriel's shadows.

They curled around me like a protective cocoon, whispering in that strange, soothing way they always did. I felt their warmth, their reassurance, and suddenly, the fear that had gripped me loosened its hold.

The footsteps behind me halted. I dared a glance over my shoulder to find nothing but darkness. Whoever—or whatever—had been following me was gone.

I exhaled a shaky breath, resting a hand against the wall to steady myself. The shadows lingered for a moment longer before retreating, as if waiting to be sure I was safe.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After that night, I began paying more attention.

It wasn't just in moments of danger. The shadows were there when I struggled to make decisions, when I felt overwhelmed by the weight of this strange, immortal world I had somehow become part of. They were subtle, but always present, guiding me in ways I couldn't quite understand.

At first, I thought it was just their nature—a reflexive response to emotions or danger. But the more it happened, the more I realized it was something more.

They didn't react to anyone else this way. Only me.

And despite Azriel's distance, despite the tension that hung between us like a storm waiting to break, he allowed it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One morning, I found myself in the training yard again. Cassian had been attempting to teach me how to fight, though I suspected it was more to keep me distracted than anything else.

"Focus, Isla," Cassian said, circling me. "If you keep drifting off, you'll be flat on your back before you know it."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying."

He smirked, lunging toward me with his wooden practice sword. I barely had time to react, stepping back just in time to avoid getting knocked over.

"Better," he said, lowering his weapon. "But not good enough."

I was about to snap back when Azriel appeared at the edge of the yard, his expression unreadable as always. Cassian noticed him too, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing.

Azriel's gaze flicked to me, then to the shadows curling around my feet. I hadn't even realized they were there.

"Again," Cassian said, drawing my attention back to him.

We went through the motions a few more times, but I couldn't focus. Not with Azriel standing there, watching. His presence was a distraction in the worst way, making my pulse race for reasons I didn't want to acknowledge.

Eventually, Cassian called it a day, clapping me on the shoulder. "Not bad. You're improving."

"Thanks," I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow.

Cassian walked off, leaving me alone with Azriel. He didn't move, didn't speak, but his shadows drifted closer, brushing against my ankle like a question.

"Are you going to say something, or just stare at me all day?" I asked, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Azriel's lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn't quite know how. "You're getting better."

"High praise from the spymaster," I said dryly, though my heart skipped a beat at his words.

He stepped closer, his shadows trailing behind him like a second skin. "You need to trust your instincts more. You hesitate too much."

I crossed my arms. "Maybe because I don't have centuries of experience like you do."

Azriel's gaze softened, just a fraction. "Your instincts are better than you think. You just need to stop doubting yourself."

His words lingered in the air between us, heavier than they should have been. There was something in his voice—something unspoken, like so many other things between us.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said quietly.

He nodded once, then turned to leave. But before he did, his shadows brushed against my arm, a silent farewell.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That night, I couldn't sleep again. The conversation with Azriel played over and over in my mind, along with the countless other moments we'd shared—moments where his shadows had comforted me in ways he never could.

I didn't understand what was happening between us, but I knew one thing: it wasn't something either of us could ignore forever.

The bond growing between us, whatever it was, felt like tangled threads—impossible to unravel, impossible to break. And despite the fear it stirred in both of us, it was there, undeniable and real.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days later, I found myself on the balcony overlooking the city. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the rooftops.

I heard the soft rustle of wings before I saw him. Azriel landed beside me, silent as always. He didn't speak, didn't look at me, but his presence was enough.

For a while, we stood there in silence, watching the city come alive as night fell. His shadows drifted closer, wrapping around me like a blanket.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said eventually. "You don't have to keep protecting me."

His gaze flicked to me, something unreadable in his eyes. "It's not something I can control."

The honesty in his voice took me by surprise. I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued before I could.

"My shadows... they have a mind of their own, to some extent. But with you, it's different. They act without me telling them to."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me. "Why?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But it scares me."

I looked at him then, really looked at him. The shadows that surrounded him weren't just a part of his power—they were a part of him, a reflection of his heart. And for some reason, they had chosen me.

"It doesn't have to," I said softly.

He didn't respond, but his shadows tightened around me as if offering their silent reassurance.

And in that moment, I realized something.

Whatever this was—this connection, this bond—it was real. Tangled and messy, yes, but real.

And maybe, just maybe, it was something worth holding on to.