there he was. Alothough his face never displayed any sort of visual emotions there were signs. Like the tilt to his eyes, the lift of his hard cheeks. The casual sweep to his wings. seeing him again and again at your tavern you’ve learn that this is Azriels smug look. Smug because he knows you hate it when he comes. You don’t mind his brothers as they call eachother, Rhys and cassian. But Azriel, you minded. Minded because his mouth was to smart. His eyes burnt you alive and stripped you bare as you were doing your job. Here everyone knew not to intimidate you, due to how you could best most Illyrian’s and their large tempers. You could get any of those brutes to listen. Perhaps the Illyrian men saw you with respect.

you made your round to Azriels table, placing down a jug of water and three glasses. Azriel watched you the entire time. He was leaned back in his chair, manspreading. surprise, surprise. Cassian and Rhys had gone up to order a round of food.

“You look like a hot mess.” Azriels silky murmur ran down your spine all the way to your toes. These boys would handle so much alcohol and still be completely unbothered.