unofficalavenger3000
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- Parts 7
She was Winter's frost-untouchable, unfeeling, unbreakable. He was Night's shadow-quiet, patient, and far too curious.
When she catches the Shadowsinger slipping through her court, neither expects the spark that follows. Duty should have kept them apart, but fate has a cruel sense of humour.
He is shadows and quiet devotion; she is ice and old scars. Yet the more their paths entwine, the thinner the line between warmth and ruin becomes.
Because when Azriel looks at her, he doesn't see the cold everyone else fears, he sees the fire she's trying to bury. And when warmth finally finds her again, it looks a lot like him.
Even fallen things can fly.