The evening sky over Velaris was draped in hues of deep indigo and shimmering silver, stars emerging one by one as if they were jewels scattered across a velvet expanse. The city, known as the Court of Dreams, pulsed with life beneath the watchful gaze of the flat-topped mountains that guarded it, their red stone peaks silhouetted against the twilight. The air was thick with the promise of night, a soothing balm for weary souls.

But inside the House of Wind, there was an undercurrent of tension that clung to the walls. Rhysand had returned from the Illyrian war camp, his expression distant, a tempest brewing behind those piercing violet eyes. His usual swagger felt muted today, as if the shadows he wielded were less of a cloak and more of a prison. You could feel the remnants of his turmoil thrumming through the bond you shared, a dark thread of unspoken memories tugging at the corners of his mind.

The bond between you thrummed, a silent connection forged through shared trauma and unyielding loyalty. Even now, you could sense the flickers of his emotions beneath the surface—flashes of anger, regret, and something softer, more vulnerable, battling for dominance. You could feel tension in the connection, a hint of guilt and sadness that was not yours.

He was being distant- even to you, and you were his mate. You couldn't let this happen. Rhys was always caring and teasing towards you, even when you were at your worst. Now it was your turn.