The chill of the Illyrian mountains bit at your skin, but you welcomed it. It grounded you. Focused you. The training ring carved into the rock echoed with the grunts and sharp exhales of the Valkyries pushing themselves to the limit. You were among them now. The newest. The outsider. Not from the Night Court, not born into this warrior sisterhood. But you were earning your place with blood and grit.

Emerie was relentless today. “Again,” she barked, as you parried her blow and staggered back, breath heaving. “Your stance drops after the third strike. You can’t afford that.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before she came at you again, blades clashing. The scrape of metal rang in your ears—until it was eclipsed by something else. A strange ripple in the air, like the way lightning feels just before it cracks.

You sensed him before you saw him.

A quiet presence, calm and confident. You turned instinctively—and froze.

He stepped into the ring, wrapping his fists in strips of dark cloth. Broad-shouldered, tall, carved like a warrior but with an unmistakable elegance. He had the Night in his eyes—stars caught in endless violet. Hair the color of midnight, slightly tousled. His power rolled off him in subtle waves, ancient and young all at once.

You didn’t know who he was. But every inch of your body suddenly felt him.

His gaze locked on yours as if it was instinct. As if he hadn’t meant to look at you—but had no choice.

And in that moment, you felt it.

A pull.

A tether.

Your heart stuttered. Not in fear. In recognition.

He gave you the barest nod before stepping into the opposite sparring ring, facing off with Cassian, who clapped him on the shoulder and said something low. You couldn’t hear it—your ears buzzed with awareness. His presence was magnetic, but more than that, it felt like your soul tilted toward him without permission.

“Don’t even think about getting distracted,” Emerie muttered under her breath, smirking as she caught your dazed expression. “That’s Nyx.”

You blinked. “Nyx?”

“Feyre and Rhysand’s son. Future High Lord of the Night Court.”

Your jaw may as well have hit the stone.

But your eyes drifted back to him. Nyx was already watching you again. Not in amusement. Not in arrogance.

In recognition.

As if he felt it too.

As if the bond had just begun to stir.