A year ago today, the skies above Velaris burned red.

It had started like any other spring day in the City of Starlight—bright, full of music and laughter, your family’s shop bustling with travelers and locals alike. You had been in the training rings that morning, helping younger Valkyries perfect their formations, when the first sirens echoed through the wards. Magic cracked the sky open as shadows and fire poured into the city—an organized attack by rogue Illyrian warbands who had long resented the peace Velaris represented.

By the time you soared over the rooftops, your heart already in your throat, the merchant quarter had become an inferno.

You still remember the way the smoke curled around the familiar stone, how the flames swallowed your family’s home—the scent of burned lavender and sandalwood from your mother’s garden still embedded in your senses. You screamed through the ash, calling their names. You broke bones trying to get to them. But it was too late. Your parents never made it out. Your older brother, Luca, survived—barely—but fled Velaris days later, unable to breathe in a city that now suffocated him with memories.

You stayed. You always stayed. Because someone had to fight for what was lost.

⸻

Now, one year later, the Sidra glistened under the moonlight as if the river itself mourned. You sat at the edge of the Moonstone Terrace, the same spot where your father once took you to stargaze, cloaked in a deep blue gown, the fabric cascading like water over marble. The stars blinked quietly above, distant and unfeeling. But your heart felt everything—especially tonight.

Behind you, strong arms folded around your waist, and a familiar warmth settled against your back. Nyx. Your mate. The son of Night, your anchor since you first met in battle training. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough.

You held a small, charred charm between your fingers—your father’s carving of a hawk, one of the few things recovered from the ruins. You traced its edges absently, your eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I should’ve been there,” you said, voice cracking like splintered stone. “Maybe I could’ve saved them.”

Nyx pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “You were protecting this city. It wasn’t your fault, love.” Nyx said softly, his wings curling around you like a protective shell. “And they’re still with you .In every breath you take, in the way you fight, in how fiercely you love.”