The House of Wind had a way of revealing its secrets at just the right moment—especially to those who weren’t looking.

You weren’t supposed to be here. Not really. As a visiting emissary from another court, you’d arrived to deliver sealed correspondence to the High Lady herself. But when the meeting was delayed, someone had suggested you wait in the House’s library. Just for a moment.

You hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

The vastness of it. The way silence and magic wrapped around the shelves like old friends. You wandered slowly through the stacks, your fingertips brushing spines, your curiosity winning over propriety.

That’s when you saw him.

At first, just his silhouette. Broad-shouldered, with midnight-blue leathers and wings folded behind him, a book in hand. Then he turned slightly, and the light caught his features—familiar and otherworldly. Power and legacy woven into his very presence. The heir. Nyx.

He noticed you, of course.

His eyes met yours then. Really met yours.

And the world went quiet.

It wasn’t the library. Not the magic.

It was him.

Your breath caught, heart skittering in your chest. In his eyes, you saw the exact moment he felt it too. That ripple of understanding. Of recognition. A golden string wrapped around your ribcage, pulling you toward him.

Neither of you moved to touch. Not yet.

“You’re not from here,” he said calmly, closing his book with a soft thud. His voice was low, warm, threaded with curiosity .