You and Nyx had been woven together long before either of you understood what fate meant.

Your family’s bookshop sat tucked into a quiet corner of Velaris, warm with the scent of paper and starlight filtering through the windows. That was where he found you—twelve years old, half-hidden behind a stack of books, when he slipped away from his parents and wandered inside. Drawn by curiosity… or maybe by something deeper.

By you.

From that day on, you were inseparable. You raced through the streets during Starfall, laughter echoing between the glowing skies. You spent nights sprawled across the roof of the River House, whispering dreams to the stars. There was no “Nyx” without you, and no “you” without Nyx.

Until everything changed.

You were seventeen when the shift began. Subtle at first—his laughter quieter, his smiles slower to come. His eyes, once always on you, began drifting elsewhere, heavy with thoughts he wouldn’t share. And then, one morning, he was simply… gone.

No goodbye. No promise. Nothing.

Sent to the Illyrian camps, they said. To train. To become what his father was.

But none of that mattered to you.

What mattered was that he left.

The betrayal carved something hollow into your chest. Days blurred together as you sat by the shop window, watching the skies, waiting for a glimpse of familiar wings that never came. Weeks turned to months, and still you waited—hope slowly twisting into something quieter, heavier.

Feyre came to explain, her voice soft, her eyes apologetic. But explanations couldn’t mend what had been broken. Not when he hadn’t come himself.

So you learned to live with the ache.

Years passed.

Until one evening, as the sun melted into the Sidra, something inside you snapped awake.

A pull. Sharp and undeniable.

Familiar.

Your breath caught as magic stirred beneath your skin, rising like it had been waiting—waiting for this. For him.

Nyx was back.

You didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. The shop door slammed behind you as you followed that invisible thread, your power flickering with every step. It led you exactly where you knew it would.

The River House.

The door opened, voices spilling out—but they faded into nothing the moment you saw him.

He stood there among them, surrounded by the Inner Circle, by his family. Taller now. Broader. His wings folded neatly behind him like they had always belonged there. Time had changed him—but not entirely.

His blue eyes were the same.

Locked on you.

The room seemed to still as you walked straight through it, ignoring the stares, the confusion, the tension crackling in the air. You stopped in front of him, close enough to see the flicker of recognition—of something softer—cross his face.

And then you shoved him hard against the wall.

He didn’t resist. Didn’t even try.

Just watched you.

“You left,” you said, your voice sharp enough to cut.

Your hands trembled at your sides, magic sparking uncontrollably, fury barely contained beneath your skin. Years of silence, of hurt, of waiting—all of it surged forward at once.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then—infuriatingly—his lips curved into the smallest smile.

Soft. Familiar.

“It’s good to see you again, Starlight.” he murmured, voice low, steady… like no time had passed at all.