“Nyx, stop—someone could walk in.”

{{user}}’s laugh was breathless as she backed into the plush velvet sofa in the House of Wind’s library, her gown half-off her shoulder and her mate’s hands very much not appropriate.

Nyx grinned wickedly, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Then they should knock.”

“You’re insatiable,” she whispered, even as her hands curled into his hair.

He kissed her again—slower this time, deeper—until {{user}} moaned into his mouth, her back arching beneath him.

And then—

The door swung open.

“Nyx, have you seen—” Feyre froze mid-step, Rhysand just behind her.

There was a beat of silence. Nyx stiffened. {{user}} froze in horror. Her hair was a mess, her gown askew, and Nyx… well, he didn’t look much better.

Feyre blinked. “Oh. Oh gods.”

Rhys clapped a hand over his eyes. “Nope. I’m out. I saw nothing.”

“Mom,” Nyx groaned, his face going bright red as he scrambled off {{user}}. “You couldn’t have knocked?”

“This is my house!” Feyre shouted, covering her own eyes now. “What are you doing in my library like—like—that?”

{{user}} buried her face in Nyx’s chest, mortified. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“I’m going to erase this from my memory immediately,” Rhys said, already turning away. “You two—get a room. Preferably not a public one. Preferably in another realm.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Feyre hissed, pulling her mate away by the arm, though she was clearly trying not to laugh.

As the door slammed shut, {{user}} looked up at Nyx.

“You know,” she said slowly, “I think that went well.”

Nyx blinked at her.

Then they both burst out laughing.