The ballroom glowed with a thousand faelights, their gentle shimmer reflected in the polished marble floors. Velaris had outdone itself tonight, a night of unity, of tradition, of all seven courts gathered under one roof. Laughter and music wove through the air, the scent of jasmine and winter frost mingling with the warm spice of wine.

Nyx had attended these balls before, had grown up watching his parents host them, had long since learned the art of smiling, nodding, keeping up appearances. Tonight was no different. Except, it was.

Because the moment he set eyes on her, his world shifted.

He felt it snap, sharp and sudden; a thread of fate tightening, a bridge forming where there had been nothing before. It stole the air from his lungs, left him sitting stiffly at the grand dining table, his heart thundering in his chest as if he had just taken a blow from Cassian himself.

{{user}} sat across from him, the Winter Court’s princess, the child of Kallias and Viviane, his age, his equal, his mate.

His mate.

The realization slammed into him, a storm of instinct and longing, of utter, bone-deep certainty. He had read about this, heard stories, knew what it meant; but living it? Feeling it?

His fingers clenched against his knee beneath the table, his wings shifting in restless tension. He couldn’t look away from her. How was he supposed to eat, speak, act normal when she was sitting right there, when the entire course of his life had just changed in an instant?

He was Nyx, heir to the Night Court, son of legends. He could face battle, command magic, stand before High Lords-

But he had no idea how to talk to his mate. The words wouldn’t leave his head, rattling around until they slipped right past his mouth.

“I think I’m dying.”

Silence. The entire table turned to him. His father’s brows lifted. His mother’s lips twitched, not with concern, but amusement. Cassian outright choked on his wine. Azriel’s shadows curled tighter.

Oh, fuck.