Hewn City was as cold and sharp as you remembered.

The obsidian palace loomed ahead, carved into the mountain with brutal precision. Shadows clung to the hallways, flickering torches throwing golden light across cruel smiles and cunning eyes. But this time, you did not walk behind anyone.

You walked beside him.

Nyx, High Lord of the Night Court, heir of Rhysand and Feyre, moved like a storm held barely in check. Clad in black and cobalt, a crown of shadow woven into his dark hair, he was every inch the ruler the Court of Nightmares feared—and yet his hand never left yours.

It was your first visit since his ascension. You hadn’t seen this part of him fully unleashed, not like this. Not as the High Lord who ruled not just with power, but with presence.

They bowed when you entered the throne room. But only when Nyx spoke did they flinch.

“This,” he said, voice echoing through the mountain, “is your High Lady.”

Gasps. Whispers. One male failed to hide a sneer.

Before you could react, Nyx’s shadows surged. They lashed across the floor like smoke with teeth, wrapping around the offender’s ankles, dragging him forward until he was on his knees before you.

You felt it—the fine edge of violence in Nyx’s restraint.

“Do you question her place beside me?” he asked, voice low, dangerous.

The male trembled. “N-no, my lord.”

“She is not just my mate. She is my high lady, my equal. And if any of you,” he turned, letting his magic hum through the room like a threat, “ever look at her as anything less than what she is, you will learn what it means to bleed under the mountain.”

You touched his arm gently—not to stop him, but to remind him you were there, steady, watching. His wings flexed slightly. He relaxed at your touch, just enough. The shadows retreated.

Later, after the gathering had dispersed in silent, uneasy obedience, you found him alone in the private chamber carved into the rock. The weight of his title hung heavy on his shoulders, but he didn’t shrug it off—not until you entered.

“I hate this place,” he muttered. “But they needed to see you. Needed to know you aren’t someone to dismiss or mock.”

You stepped closer, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You didn’t need to defend me. I could have broken his nose myself.”

Nyx gave a low chuckle, pulling you to him. “I know. But I wanted to. Because I’ve spent too long letting duty keep me away from you. I won’t let anything, anyone, make you feel small in my court. Our court.”