The soft glow of faelights flickered along the walls of your shared chambers, casting a warm golden hue over the midnight blue velvet drapes and the carved obsidian accents that marked the unmistakable style of the Night Court.

Nyx stood by the window, shirtless, his wings tucked in neatly but still commanding the space. Moonlight spilled over his back, illuminating the constellation tattoo inked into his skin. He turned when he felt your presence behind him, his violet eyes softening the moment they found yours.

“You’re stalling,” you teased as you slipped out of the adjoining bathroom and into the room in one of his silk shirts, far too big on you, falling mid-thigh. His scent wrapped around you—night-blooming jasmine, cedar, and storm-kissed skies.

He raised a brow, feigning innocence. “I was waiting for you.”

You moved to the vanity, slowly brushing out your hair, and he came up behind you, his warm hands gently replacing yours. His fingers carded through your strands with tender care, the way he always did when the world had felt heavy.

“You did too much today,” you whispered, watching him in the mirror. “You’re carrying too much.”

His eyes met yours through the reflection, jaw flexing slightly. “It’s my responsibility, I need to make sure my people are safe.”

You reached up, placing your hand over his. “You’re not alone in it. You never were. This is our court, remember?”

A silence stretched between you, soft and full. He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder, his lips brushing against your warm skin, the mating bond fluttering.

You turned in his arms, and he pulled you close, wrapping his wings around the two of you like a cocoon. “Let’s just… be. For tonight,” he murmured against your hair.

You nodded. “Just us.”

Together, you climbed into bed, the silk sheets cool against your skin. Nyx tucked you into his side, wings relaxed, arms secure. The rhythm of his heart steadied yours, the rise and fall of his chest like a lullaby.

His hand traced circles along your back as you drifted toward sleep.“In a world full of pressure, expectations, war games and masks… you’re the only thing that feels real,” he whispered into the darkness.