Azriel quietly watches his mate water the plants in the garden as he walks behind her. Silently observing the way the sun gleamed in her skin and reflected on her hair.

She was the complete opposite of him — she was flowers and sunshine while he was the night courts shadow singer.

His wings folded up against his sides as he took small strides to catch up to her, it was easy as she was so small in frame and his powerful Illyrian legs did help with the cause.

“Wait, angel.” He says as his mates turns to look at him with large, confused eyes. “You’ve got hair on your face.” He says quietly as he pushes the hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear.