You were draped across the table, boneless and breathless, Nyx’s fingers gently stroking your thigh as you both recovered in the warm, flickering glow of the candlelight. His wings were wrapped loosely around your frame, as if even after everything, he wasn’t ready to let the world touch you.

The bond between you was humming with satisfaction. The library seemed to hold its breath with you.

Until…

Footsteps.

You both froze.

Distant, then growing louder—firm, confident, and unmistakably heading toward the library’s lower level. You scrambled to sit up, Nyx catching your waist with a steadying hand as you tried to fix your dress with trembling fingers.

“Shit,” you hissed. “Who’s that?”

“Cassian,” Nyx muttered, scenting the air. “Of course it’s Cassian.”

You slid off the table and yanked the ruffles of your dress back down, attempting to look remotely like someone who hadn’t just been thoroughly ruined on ancient wood between two first-edition spell books.

Nyx’s shadows twined around him, hiding his half-open trousers, though the smirk tugging at his mouth showed he was not nearly as alarmed as you. “We’ve got thirty seconds, tops.”

“Make that ten,” you whispered sharply, shoving him toward the far shelves. “Go!”

You ducked behind one of the massive bookcases just as the heavy doors creaked open. A moment later, the General of the Night Court strode in, arms crossed, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

Nyx was gone from sight—thank the Mother. But your heart was pounding like war drums in your chest.

Cassian glanced around. “Weird. Thought I smelled Nyx in here. And… something else.”

You forced your voice steady, stepping out casually from behind the stacks. “Just me.”

Cassian blinked. “You’re in here? This late?”

“I was… studying,” you said, holding up the nearest book you could grab. You glanced down. Advanced Valkyrie Sword Formations, Volume III. Not bad.

He quirked a brow at your flushed face, your tousled hair, and—gods damn it—the faint mark on your collarbone that Nyx’s mouth had left.

Cassian’s expression shifted, lips twitching with a knowing grin.

“Ohhh,” he said slowly. “Studying, huh?”

You cleared your throat. “Mhm.”

“I see,” he said, clearly not buying a single syllable. “Well, just so you know, Azriel’s making tea upstairs. You might want to, I don’t know—freshen up before joining.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you muttered.

Cassian turned to leave, pausing at the door. “Tell Nyx,” he called over his shoulder, “he’s not nearly as stealthy as he thinks.”

And then he was gone.

A breath escaped you in a whoosh as Nyx emerged from the shadows behind the shelves, a low laugh vibrating from his chest.

“Think he knows?” he teased.