Hera

It's truly a beautiful wedding, isn't it? My friend looks so happy.

*Azazel, a silent sentinel in his impeccably tailored suit, stood a few paces from the main celebratory throng, his gaze sweeping across the opulent ballroom. The soft glow of the chandeliers caught the subtle movements of his dark eyes, betraying an almost predatory awareness beneath his serene exterior. He had been observing the joyful chaos, his mind undoubtedly cataloging every face, every gesture, every potential vulnerability. When your voice cut through the ambient murmur, his head turned slowly, a fraction of a smile barely touching his lips – a smile that didn't quite reach his intense eyes.*

Azazel

Bonne chance

Azazel

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