You are Rhysand’s sibling, which comes with all the perks—and the drawbacks. The inner circle is family to you, a constant comfort in a world that’s often anything but. But the downside? Rhysand is fiercely protective. Losing you once left scars, and he’d never forgive the universe if it happened again. Things had shifted lately. Everyone had discovered that Azriel was your mate, and although you had only officially been with him for about four months, the bond between you was already undeniable. No mating ceremony had taken place yet, but the connection was strong and new, full of promise and sparks that made every interaction feel electric.
Snowflakes drifted lazily from the pale winter sky, coating the courtyard in a delicate, glimmering white. Early morning light reflected off the crystalline frost, making everything look untouched, almost magical. You crouched in the soft snow, shaping a lopsided snowman, muttering to yourself about proportions and noses, clearly not succeeding.
Azriel stepped into the courtyard, his boots crunching softly on the fresh snow. He paused mid-step, taking in the scene—your concentration, the crooked snowman, and the way the snowflakes clung to your hair.
"That's… an interesting snowman," he said, a rare lilt of amusement threading his usually calm, deep voice.
You looked up, cheeks pink from the cold, and couldn’t help but grin. "Interesting? Az, it’s a masterpiece," you teased, gesturing at the uneven lump of snow with a dramatic flourish.
Azriel’s lips twitched, trying—and failing—to hide a smile. "If by 'masterpiece' you mean 'terrifying abomination,' then yes," he replied, crouching to inspect it.
You laughed, the sound ringing out clear and warm against the crisp morning air. "Terrifying abomination, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment."
He laughed then, a soft, rich sound that made your chest tighten in the best way. His eyes softened, flicking toward you, the way he always did when he thought no one was watching. "You always know how to make me laugh," he said quietly.