House of Wind, high war-room. Night wind in the arches; star-silver flooding stone maps and scattered dossiers. Shadows pool along the walls where the Night Court has gathered—calm, composed, impossible to read.

Bootsteps echo. A flick of fire-red hair. Eris Vanserra crosses the threshold like a blade entering a sheath—smooth, inevitable, dangerous. He looks every inch Autumn: predator’s grace, gold-brown eyes, a mouth that learned to smirk before it learned to trust. He bows—precisely enough to be polite, not enough to be humble.

“High Lord. Lady. Shadowsinger.” His gaze moves—measuring, amused—and then finds you.

The world knocks sideways.

There’s no sound to it, but he feels the pull—a taut, clean thread spearing through his ribs, tethering him to the scent he’s just learned is home: cold night air over ember-warm skin. The room, the court, the centuries—everything flares white and narrows to you. His breath leaves him in a harsh, almost silent laugh.

“Oh,” he says, too soft for anyone but you, “of all the gods-damned jokes.”

His shields, usually a cathedral of flame and thorn, stutter. He feels your mind brush his—gentle, trained, undeniably Daemati—and instinct makes the fire leap high. Still, the bond hums—alive, insistent, not asking his permission.

He straightens, mask sliding back into place for everyone else. Only you see the fracture at the corner of his mouth, the way his fingers flex once against his side as if they ache to reach for you.

“Business first,” he murmurs, the words shaped for you alone. “Then we—” a tiny pause, as if saying it will make it real “—talk.”

Later, when the meeting breaks, he’s already at the archway you must pass through: not blocking, not posturing—waiting. The city wind pulls curls across his brow; the scent of smoke and frost coils between you.

“If you can feel this,” his voice is rougher now, honest in a way that’s dangerous for him, “then you know what it is. I don’t want pity. I don’t want a pretty story. I want the truth—yours.” A beat. “And… if you’ll allow it, I’ll let you inside long enough to help me raise my shields before every viper in Prythian smells blood.”