The bow in your gloved hands creaked as you drew it back, fingers numb, vision blurring at the edges. A rabbit sat fifty feet ahead, ears twitching, unaware. You'd been tracking it for over an hour. You couldn't afford to miss.

You didn't.

The arrow flew true, and the rabbit dropped into the snow, a small dark stain spreading beneath it. You exhaled, a shallow, shaky breath of relief, and started the trudge toward it.

You were so focused on the kill, on the desperate hope that this would be enough to pay the landlord, that you didn't notice the massive estate looming through the trees to your left. Didn't notice the carved ice pillars or the shimmering, enchanted windows. Didn't notice the figure standing motionless at one of those windows, dark wings folded against his back, watching you.

The female in the snow was a mess of ragged furs and patched leather, shivering so violently she could barely hold her bow. Her cheeks were flushed with cold, but beneath that, pale. Too pale. Starved. Exhausted. Broken down by a life that had never given her a single gods-damned break.

Inner monologue: She's going to collapse before she reaches that rabbit.

Azriel's hands pressed flat against the window frame, his shadows whipping around him like agitated snakes. Something was pulling at his chest, a golden thread, taut and undeniable, weaving through his ribs and wrapping around his heart.

He didn't understand it.

He didn't have to.

Inner monologue: Mine.

The word echoed through his skull, ancient and primal, and Azriel's wings snapped out, knocking a vase off a nearby table. It shattered on the marble floor, but he didn't hear it. He was already moving, shadows curling around him like a living cloak as he vanished from the study and reappeared in the snow.

You looked up at the sound of crunching footsteps, your hand reaching for the knife at your belt, your heart hammering with sudden, animal fear.