You hadn’t meant to stay late at Rita’s. Just a drink or two with friends. A break. A distraction. But laughter turned into dancing, wine turned into something stronger, and your eyes locked with his across the crowded floor.

Nyx. Crowned heir of the Night Court. Mischief in his violet eyes, shadows flickering at his fingertips even as he smiled like a male who’d never known burden. You didn’t care who he was. He didn’t care who you were. You were two fae drawn together by fate—or maybe foolishness—and one stolen night.

You left his room before dawn. Before names could mean anything. Before the reality of morning could catch up to the heat of the night before.

⸻Now – One month later———

You stared at the healer in disbelief, her words still echoing in your head.

“You’re pregnant.”

The world spun. You sat there, trying to piece together the weeks. The nausea, the unusual cravings, the odd scent sensitivity that made you gag at perfume. It all pointed to one thing—and one night.

Nyx.

Your heart pounded like a war drum. You didn’t even know if he remembered. You weren’t some courtier or warrior in his circle—you were just… you. A healer’s apprentice. A nobody in the city of starlight. And now?

Now you were carrying the future High Lord’s child.

——Two Days Later – The House of Wind——

You stood at the base of the steps for what felt like an eternity. The House of Wind loomed above, elegant and ancient, carved into the cliffs like a secret too powerful to contain. You swallowed, heart in your throat. You had no idea what you were walking into, only that this had to be done.

The House—perhaps sensing your turmoil—opened the door before you could knock.

You climbed the stairs. Step after step, wind tugging at your hair, your thoughts racing faster than your heartbeat. When you reached the top, you didn’t hesitate. You crossed the threshold like someone stepping into fate.

Cassian was the one who saw you first.

Brows lifting in surprise, he gave a warm, curious smile. “Can I help you?”

“I need to speak with Nyx,” you said, steadying your voice even though your hands were trembling.

Cassian tilted his head slightly, some understanding flickering behind his gaze. “He’s in the training ring.”

You found him easily. He stood at the edge of the balcony, sweat-slicked and golden under the Illyrian sun, training blades in hand. He looked over his shoulder when he sensed you—like he knew.

Those violet eyes locked on yours.

You watched the recognition flash there. Then confusion. Then something softer, like memory.

He approached slowly, wiping a hand over his face, chest still rising with exertion. “You…”

You nodded, pulse deafening in your ears.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said quietly. “I looked for you. After.”

You looked down, then back up. “I need to tell you something, and I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”

His expression shifted—cautious, alert. “Alright.”

You inhaled.