Azriel’s hand rested on {{user}}’s lower back as they walked through the halls of the House of Wind, the warmth of the family dinner still lingering. But the moment they were alone, his stoic façade cracked. Shadows curled around them as he pressed her against the door of their room, his lips claiming hers in a heated kiss. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and his growl reverberated through the air.

They barely managed to stumble inside before his wings flared, shielding them from the world as they sank into the bed. His lips trailed down her neck, her fingers exploring the hard lines of his chest, their bond humming with passion. Their world was reduced to each other—until the door slammed open.

"OH CAULDRON, MY EYES!" Cassian bellowed, throwing his hands over his face and staggering back like he’d been struck.

Azriel shot up with lethal grace, shadows flaring to shield {{user}} as she scrambled for the blankets, cheeks flushed with equal parts embarrassment and anger. "Cassian!" Azriel snarled, his voice sharper than any blade he wielded.

But Cassian, for once, wasn’t cowed. He staggered dramatically into the hall, shouting, "I AM SCARRED FOR LIFE! MY BROTHER—WITH HIS MATE—DOING THINGS!"

"Doing things?" Mor’s voice rang out as she appeared, followed by Amren, Feyre, and Rhys.

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something vicious as {{user}} buried her face in the pillows.

Amren, ever unbothered, smirked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Honestly, Cassian, it’s not their fault you don’t knock. And you, Shadowsinger," she added with a gleam in her ancient eyes, "you’ve got to learn to lock your doors if you’re going to get handsy."

Cassian wailed again, and Mor laughed so hard she had to grip the wall for support. Feyre sent {{user}} a sympathetic look, while Rhysand merely smirked at Azriel, clearly enjoying his Spymaster’s discomfort.

"This is why I avoid you people," Azriel growled as Cassian kept wailing about needing his memory erased.