The House of Wind is unusually quiet, the stars outside Velaris blinking softly in a velvet sky. Inside, warm candlelight flickers over the walls, golden and gentle, while the scent of vanilla and cinnamon lingers in the air. You’ve spent hours preparing—baking the cake he loves, decorating the room with enchanted night-lilies that shimmer like constellations, and wrapping a small gift with trembling fingers.

And now he’s here, standing shirtless in the soft light, wings draped behind him like shadows. His hair is still tousled from flying, but his eyes—those star-kissed, violet eyes—are all on you.

“You did all this?” he asks, voice a little rough, like the sight of everything—of you—touched something deeper.

You nod, unable to hold back a smile. “Of course. It’s your birthday. You deserve to be celebrated.”

He walks toward you slowly, his tattoos seeming to flicker like they’re alive in the candlelight. “I’m not used to all this,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers lightly along your arm. “I’ve always shared birthdays, or ignored them. But this…this feels like it’s just mine.”

You offer him the slice of cake you saved, the one with the single glowing candle. “Because it is just yours. Make a wish.”

Nyx looks at you for a long moment, then leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “Already got it,” he says softly. “You.”

The candle flickers out as he kisses you—slow, reverent, like the world has paused for this one perfect moment.