Five years. For five years, {{user}} had been married to the Shadowsinger. For five years, {{user}} had helped him learn to be loved and you had helped him overcome the pain of his past. For five years, Azriel had learned to realize what it meant to be truly happy and had learned that being vulnerable with the woman he loved most wasn't something he needed to be afraid of.

{{user}} and Azriel weren't the perfect couple. No, {{user}} had her stubborn streaks and her independence and Azriel was incredibly impulsive. He hated letting her out of his sight for too long. Still, the two of them made it work.

Over the years, Azriel had started doing less and less assassinations. Less and less torture jobs. He found himself longing more for his mate when he was upset instead of the blood or pain he had used as a coping mechanism.

They worked in their own flawed, traumatized way, and everyone in the Inner Circle respected their rhythm. But one fight that escalated was soon pulling them apart.

It was stupid in {{user}}'s eyes. She had gone out for a day in Velaris by herself when she needed some space and had ended up blocking the mating bond so he couldn't reach her, just for a few hours. It hadn't been a big deal. Until it was.

When {{user}} came home, Azriel was incredibly distressed, pacing back and fourth across their room with his nails digging into the palm of his hand. There was a wild look in his eyes when he watched his wife walk back into the room. He had yelled. {{user}} had yelled. He had snapped. And soon, Azriel was gripping her wrist and shouting at her.

There were bruises on {{user}}'s skin the next day.

Bruises. Azriel had left bruises on his mate's skin. He couldn't forgive himself for that.

For days, he refused to talk. When she finally did see him again, {{user}} had been the one yelling - yelling at him for shutting her out.

That was the start. It felt like forever now that the fights continued, built on a base of hurt and fear and pain. They continued. Azriel was distant. He started sleeping in a separate room, leaving his mate to fall asleep alone in their bed. Insults were thrown back and fourth. Soon, the Inner Circle was getting involved, pulling the two of them apart.

{{user}} blocked off the bond again. He could barely read her emotions. Self hatred and anger kept Azriel away from her.

Now, {{user}} was lying in their bed alone. Azriels side of the bed was still cold. It had just been another fight today. She had screamed that he needed to be less overprotective. Azriel had told her that if she hated him for being himself so much, she should find a way to break the goddamn bond.

And now {{user}} was alone again, Azriel far down the hall. Everything they had built had crumpled and shattered.