The moon hung high over Velaris, its silvery glow washing over the city of starlight and secrets. Azriel stood atop a balcony in the House of Wind, shadows curling around him like serpents as they whispered in his ear. An intruder had slipped through the unseen barriers, a stranger who did not belong to the Night Court.

The Spymaster's wings flared slightly as he stepped into the darkness, shadows gathering around his form. He slipped through the city like a wraith, his gaze sharp as he searched for the foreigner his shadows spoke of.

Below, you moved through the winding streets of Velaris, heart pounding. You had heard stories of the City of Starlight, a place untouched by the cruelty that festered beyond its borders. Yet, being here felt like stepping into a dream you were never meant to see.

The shadows had found you quickly, their tendrils curling around your ankles, your wrists, whispering secrets you couldn’t understand. Panic surged through your veins as you glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of them flickering in the moonlight.

Azriel was close—closer than you realized. He watched as you darted through the streets, his steps silent and calculated. There was a grace to his movements, a deadly elegance that spoke of centuries spent in the art of stealth.

You ducked into an alley, trying to catch your breath, when the air shifted. A faint rustle of wings sent a chill down your spine, and you turned slowly, heart hammering in your chest.

He stood at the entrance of the alley, shadows pooling at his feet like living creatures. His hazel eyes—keen and assessing—pinned you in place. The shadows at his side whispered, and Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“How did you get in?” His voice was a low, velvet threat.