The sounds of sparring echoed through the training grounds, but none of it reached you. Your focus was entirely on Azriel, his movements sharp and precise as he expertly blocked your strikes, his shadows swirling around him like they were part of his very being. He had blindfolded you to train for your other senses-- touch, sound and scent.

You swung blindly again, frustration building as you missed once more. Azriel’s gaze didn’t waver, though there was something in it—something darker, heavier. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, his voice low, almost too soft.