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Chapter Text

The sun, at its peak in the sky, was beaming right on Saria as she took a sip of the chilled sparkling wine. Sweat dripped down the spine of her back, even the gauzy fabric of her emerald green two piece set was a bit overbearing in the heat.

The Summer Court, although outwardly beautiful with its clear skies and turquoise waves, was hot as all hell. Actually, she could not imagine Hell being much hotter than this place. But she loved it, sweat and all.

A warm wind swept past, sending her honey-blonde curls in a frenzy around her face. She breathed in a laugh, the salt from the air mingling with the sweet bubbles of the wine on her tongue.

Saria was sitting on a pleasure barge in the middle of the Adriata sea, courtesy of the High Lord of the Summer Court. Though Tarquin wasn’t in attendance on this particular boat, his cousin Cresseida had taken it upon herself to be the entertainment for the day and was currently telling an outlandish story of fighting water wolves. Whatever the hell that meant.

Saria had checked out long ago, the wine had her mind floating and her skin tingling. She was dying to get back on shore, to move, to dance. Gods, she wanted to dance. It felt like ages since she truly did. Or at least the way she preferred to dance. Outside of stuffy ballrooms, freely, with no need of a partner to guide her. Just her and the wind. That’s why she visited the Summer Court so often, why she used her father’s status and his friendship with Tarquin to her advantage.

The Spring Court was beautiful and it was her home, but the traditions her father kept in place did grow a bit tiresome. The diplomatic balls where she had to be on her best behaviour, strapped tight in a dress made of heavy layers that weighed her down. She knew the traditional parties and dinners were outdated, but the Spring Court citizens had voted to keep them in place. However, that didn’t mean she had to spend all of her time there.

The Summer Court had always welcomed her with open arms and over the years, Tarquin and Cresseida had become like an aunt and uncle to Saria, in a way. Neither of her parents had siblings, so their blood family was just the three of them. It was too long of a story to tell and she didn’t know all of the details, but Saria was beyond grateful for the High Lord who had found her father at his lowest, helped him back onto his feet and unknowingly reintroduced him to his mate. Saria’s mother.

The crowd erupting into laughter brought her back to the present. The water nymph to Saria’s right spit out her drink over Cresseida’s punch-line, whatever it was. Saria, completely clueless, joined in on the laughter and watched the High Lord’s cousin beam at the attention of it all. Her smile quickly turned genuine at the sight.

A few minutes later, Saria was back on land. Her legs were a bit wobbly, partially from the boat, but largely from the wine. She began her shaky ascent up the sandy dune when she heard Cresseida call out her name. She halted and turned to the female.

“Saria, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” Cresseida swept her into a hug, her scent enveloping Saria. Sea-salt, calm waters and pine. She smelt like home away from home. “How’s your father?”

Saria pulled back, but still gripped the female’s forearms and Cresseida held her elbows. An embrace they often found themselves in. She stared at her beautiful face. Her dark brown skin was a stark contrast to her cloud-white hair, which was intricately placed into dozens of small braids and decorated with tiny sea-shells and pearls. The turquoise dress, flowing and free, made her look like if the sea came to life. Saria smiled brightly at her, “Him and my mother are currently vacationing in the Winter Court. He sends his well wishes.”

The waves crashed against the shore and Cresseida shivered. “Ugh. I don’t know how they can withstand that cold. But I am glad to hear that they are well,” Cresseida squeezed Saria once more and pulled away, only to wrap an arm around Saria’s waist, pulling her in tight. “Let us go dance, my dear.”

With that, they made their way up the dune and on to the beach. An unlit bonfire lay in the middle, and the band began playing a song that instantly had Saria giddy. She grabbed Cresseida’s hand and yanked her towards the crowd of dancing fae. There were hundreds of them, some upper High Fae, but most were commoners. Bodies of every color brushed together, wings and shoulders moving to the beat of the drum. Loud cheers mixed in with the music.

The two females laughed and danced and spun, the light fabrics of their sleeves and skirts took flight with the wind and they all became a storm of color on the beach. Saria blocked them all out as she absorbed the music. Her very bones vibrated at the sound as it flow freely through her.

It felt like hours before they finally took a break from dancing. Saria leaned against her friend’s side, her head on Cresseida’s shoulder, breathless and exhausted. They looked out at the horizon, at the sun in the last minutes of its descent. Night would be upon them soon.

Cresseida patted Saria’s head, a gesture of familial love, and said, “I have a feeling that tonight will be one for the ages.”

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe we fucking did it.” Leith slapped Nyx’s shoulder, jumping in excitement.

“Wow, way to be cool about it,” Thena said, rolling her hazel eyes and marched ahead of them in the sand. She stared down a passing pair of males and tucked her dark leathery wings in tighter.

Nyx chuckled and looked around, at the beach full of people dancing, the clear vast sky now a deep navy blue except for the sliver of deep, dark orange vanishing into the water. The gods-damn water was endless. The Sidra was nothing compared to what lay before him. Waves crashed and sputtered off the coast, aquamarine coming and retreating, leaving seafoam in its wake. He’d never seen anything so…blue. Such a different shade from the sky he spent so much time in.

“Cauldron boil me, she’s such a wench,” Leith huffed, long auburn curls dancing with the wind.

“To be fair, you were acting a bit uncool.” Nyx shrugged, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, please. Don’t act like it’s not fucking awesome that we actually made it here.” Leith smiled and spread his arms wide. As if to say Look at it, this is all ours.

And it was. It was all theirs for the night. They’d made it out of Velaris and into the Summer Court. On the night of Summer’s biggest party. And they didn’t get caught. Well, not yet, anyways. Surely they’d get a lecture and be grounded to the city for the rest of their lives for breaking the rules. For “undermining” their parents, or whatever his father had to say about it. But tonight, they were here and it was theirs. They’d already made plans to live like it was their last night alive.

“Let’s go get a drink, brother,” Nyx said, putting an arm around his friend’s broad shoulders and leading him towards the crowd.

When they finally caught up to Thena at the drink table, she had already chugged one glass of faerie wine and was raising the next to her mouth. She downed it in one gulp.

Nyx shook his head, “You better slow down. I’m not flying you home if you’re passed out drunk.”

“I can handle my liquor, cousin.” Thena angled her head at Leith, golden brown hair falling over her muscled shoulder. A predator eyeing up its prey. “However, I’d be more worried for your little friend if I were you. Remember what happened last time?”

The “last time” in question being when they’d snuck into his parent’s wine cellar while they were away on a Day Court trip. They tore through four bottles and Nyx had the genius idea to see who could last the longest spinning in the skies. It did not bode well for Leith.

Nyx looked at Leith, who was now narrowing his eyes at Thena. But his pale face had turned a shade of green, assumingly at the memory, and he set down his second glass of wine.

“Enough with the theatrics, we’re here to have fun. Can’t you guys cut the bullshit for tonight?” Nyx stared pointedly at both his cousin and friend. Leith dropped his glare on Thena and nodded his head. Nyx added, “Plus, this will probably be our last time in the Summer Court until next century. Literally.”

At that, Thena handed a glass to Nyx. She raised her own and said, “To the Delinquents of Velaris.”

“To the Delinquets!” Nyx and Leith whooped. The three clinked their glasses together and swallowed the shimmering liquid in a gulp. Nyx could already feel his fingers tingling from the liquor.

“Ready to dance, Vanserra?” Nyx wiggled his eyebrows at Leith. The male was notorious for dancing like nobody was watching. Except everybody was usually watching in horror at the young male.

Leith brought another glass to his lips, chugged it and said, “Hell yeah.”

Thena shook her head exasperatedly, but the corners of her lips curved up a bit. Nyx smiled and turned, heading into the lively crowd.

——————
Nyx was beyond drunk. The trio had been drinking and dancing for hours now. He wasn’t exactly sure when he had separated from them, but his cousin and friend were nowhere to be seen. And quite frankly, he didn’t care that much. The alcohol in his veins kept him from caring about anything.

Nyx moved slowly in a circle, his face turned up. The full moon was high. Stars, blazing and bright, splattered the dark sky. Nyx grinned widely. He could stay here for his whole life and never get tired of the open sky and vast ocean.

A flash of gold skittered in his peripheral. A wave of honey and roses hit his senses and his knees buckled. Mother spare him, he definitely drank too much. Gold flashed again and Nyx turned.

The female before him moved like the wind. Like ivy growing on stone. Wild and effortless. The crowd seemed to have gathered around her, as if she was the star of the show. Nyx watched her from the sidelines, content to do just that all night.

The flames from the fire reflected on her blonde hair, casting it a brilliant shade of yellow. She moved her arms to the music, her hips doing the same. The thin fabric of her long green skirt flew around her, making her look like a sunflower swaying in a field.

She opened her eyes and their gazes met. Golden brown met striking blue. Smiling, she inclined her head at him. Nyx moved closer, almost instinctively. A song on the wind beckoning him to her. He felt like he was floating, or flying, though his wings were tucked in tight to his body with the touchy crowd.

When Nyx reached the female, she leaned close to him. Her scent hit him stronger than before. Roses, honey and something else he knew he could never pin. Something daring. Her rosy lips nearly touched his pointed ear as she lifted up on her tiptoes. He shivered as her breath ran down his skin.

“Dance with me.”

Chapter Text

The crowd had thinned out significantly by the time Saria looked up. She’d been so busy either staring at the stranger in front of her or keeping her eyes closed to fight off the dizziness from the wine. She didn’t know where Cresseida had run off of to, but she’d bet plenty of gold marks that if she found a certain beautiful auburn haired female from earlier, then her aunt would not be very far from her.

She looked back at the male, and their eyes met. Such a beautiful shade of blue in the light of the dying fire. They had not talked, the only words spoken between them had been Saria telling him to dance with her. Somehow, his arms had found their way around her hips. The palms of her hands rested on his shoulders, inches away from the tips of his black leathery wings. The flames of the fire reflected through them, casting them a dark reddish color.

She had never seen anything like them before. They’re actually what caught her attention earlier. Between the wings, his black hair, and his dark attire, he was a living shadow on the beach. The only light emmanating off of him were those blue-grey eyes.

“What is your name?” He whispered in her ear over the music.

She quirked her head at the question. “You do not know me?”

It was unusual for people not to know her, especially in the Summer Court. She had basically been stuck to Cresseida’s side since she was a babe.

The male shook his head, his black locks swaying. She wasn’t sure why his lack of knowledge filled her with so much joy, but her grin grew wide.

“Race me to the shore and I’ll tell you.”

Saria ran, weaving through the dwindling crowd. The sleeves of her top and skirt flapped behind her. She reached the dune and descended, feet sliding in the sand. The male was close behind her, his scent drifted around her. Lilac and oranges. Bright and sweet. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to sense him a crowd of a thousand fae. Five thousand. This night would forever be etched into her mind.

They reached the shore and Saria stepped into the water. Just enough to get her bare feet wet. The waves lapped at her legs, her long skirt now completely soaked at the bottom. She looked over at the male next to her, at his black pants now rolled up mid-calf and his shoes neatly placed on the sand, just out of reach of the water. His form-fitting, tailored shirt, the way he held his head high, his back completely straight and his wings tucked in tight. She rolled her eyes, snorting softly to herself. He was truly only missing the crown to finish off the look of pristine regalia.

She wasn’t sure what family he came from, or even what court. She had only truly explored three courts in her life. Spring, Summer and Winter. Autumn was off limits for most and her father didn’t do much business with the Solar Courts. Though, there were rumors of a new court emerging. She couldn’t remember the name of it, but she heard whispers of female warriors running it. She’d have to ask Cresseida.

Quite frankly, he did not look like he belonged to any of them, but he had to come from somewhere important. He sure as hell carried himself like he did. There was no denying that. The male stood there, face now up towards the dark sky illuminated by faraway stars. Saria kicked her foot, the reflection of the moon rippling with the movement. Water splashed onto her companion. She kicked again.

He turned towards her, mouth agape. “Are you…splashing me?” Her only response was a devilish smile as she jumped, splaying water over the both of them.

The male’s laugh echoed down the shore and he splashed back at her. Squealing, Saria ran down the coast. Warm water fell down on them like Spring’s first rain.

They were both breathless when they plopped onto their backs on the ground. Sand stuck to Saria’s wet skin, her clothes completely soaked. She felt him next to her. All she had to do was reach the tips of her fingers out and she’d be touching him. Her body warmed at the thought.

“Saria.” She blurted into the quiet night. The band had quit playing long ago and everyone had either left or paired off in dark corners of their own.

She felt him start in surprise at the sudden outburst. “What?”

She tilted her head to look at him. He was already looking at her. “My name. You asked me earlier.”

“Oh,” He chuckled, eyes crinkling with the movement. “I just assumed you would not give it to me.”

“I almost didn’t,” She raised her eyebrows at him. “But I think I might like you.”

A dimple danced on his cheek. “Well, Saria, my name is Nyx. And I think I might like you too.”

——————

“And that is the bandolier of the Hunter.” Saria tore her gaze off of his beautiful tan face and followed his uplifted arm to the direction of his pointed finger, all the way up to the line of bright, glimmering stars.

“How big do you suppose this Hunter was?” Saria quipped, tilting her head to the side.

Nyx held up his other finger, until the distance from both were barely an inch. The stars aligned inbetween them. He squinted his eyes, mouth twisting to the side. “I’d say about this big.”

Saria let out a loud laugh that echoed down the shore. Nyx joined in and the sound seemed to bounce off the waves, dance in the wind, and all the way up until it returned back to that sweet land of milk and honey.

Through the fit of laughter, Nyx’s hand had somehow managed to find Saria’s. His warm palm laid atop of her own, igniting her whole body. Saria looked down at their hands, and Nyx interlaced their fingers together and squeezed. Saria looked up at his face only to find him already watching her. His blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. She could get lost in them forever.

Saria tore her gaze from his and looked back at the sky. She cleared her throat, “Are any of the other stars hunters?”

“Do you not learn the constellations where you’re from?”

She shook her head. “No, we learn about the phases of the sun and moon but that’s about it. The stars do no affect the seasons.”

Nyx hummed beside her. The vibration trailed down her body until it left the tips of her toes tingling. “What a pity. There is so much to learn among the stars. We are taught about the whole sky. Well, the whole universe, actually. Or what we know of it,” He paused, as if contemplating on his next words, “My father installed an orerry above my crib when I was a babe. I have always dreamt about the stars.”

“I didn’t realize it was so vast,” Saria said, tendrils of her hair blowing in the wind. “It must be a beautiful thing to study.”

“What do you study?” Nyx asked genuinely.

“Lots of plants. Insects. How seasons effect the environment…” She drawled off, listing each one on a finger. “Oh, and court delegations. Y’know, the real entertaining stuff.”

Nyx crinkled his nose and she had a feeling he knew the last one all too well. Perhaps he was from one of the Solars, then.

“Do you ever train? In combat?” He traced his thumb across the back of her hand. Lazily, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She tried to calm her heart from beating off-kilter.

“Sometimes. Are you asking me to a duel, Nyx?” Saria turned towards him, leaning on an elbow. Their hands separated with the movement. The instant cold sent shivers down her spine.

“Me?” He held a palm to his chest in feigned innocence. “I would never. Trust me, I know when to pick and choose my battles.”

Saria stared down at him. His black hair bristled over his tan forehead with the wind, his blue eyes shining even in the dark. Her gaze lowered, to his full lips. Such a delicious shade of red. He licked them and Saria leaned down. Their foreheads softly met, Nyx tucked a stray golden curl behind her ear. His hand nestled the base of her jaw. Their deep, shallowed breaths danced with each other. The world seemed to pause at their nearness, the waves and the wind ceased to exist. It was only the two of them and all it would take was one push, one word spoken, and their lips would meet.

Saria, heart beating fast, leaned even closer to—

“Nyx!”

The loud sound made them jump apart. The world continued on. Waves crashed against the shore. Saria sat up fully, whirling towards the sound. A red-headed fae male stood on the dune, looking down at them.

“Nyx, we gotta go. Thena’s wasted.”

“I am not!” A female yelled, though she wasn’t visible from where they were.

“I’ll be right there,” Nyx yelled back, getting onto his feet. “Just give me a moment.”

The redhead waggled his eyebrows and retreated.

“I apologize for my friend. He’s a pain in the ass,” Nyx grabbed his shoes and began sliding them on.

Saria chuckled, “He seems…enduring.”

“More than you know.” He dusted himself off and walked towards her. He held a hand down to her. She took it and he brought her to her feet.

“You’re not staying at Summer tonight?” Saria asked, looking up at his face.

“No,” Nyx huffed out a laugh. “My parents would freak. Or at least my father would.”

She clicked her tongue. “I see.”

“I hope to see you again, Saria.” He held her stare.

“I would like that, Nyx.”

He kissed her once on the top of her head before walking away. Lilac and citrus lingered in his absence.

Saria stayed alone on the beach long after his departure. She watched the moon set, listening to the waves crash. Long before the sunrise, something warm had found its way into her chest and glowed, enlightening her whole body in flames.

She wondered if this is how flowers felt in the middle of summer, when the sun was at its highest. She smiled at the thought.

Chapter Text

Nyx watched as the female seated across from him rubbed the temple of her head.

“I thought you could handle your liquor?” Nyx chuckled lightly, tapping his pen against the dark hard wood of the table.

“Don’t even start,” Thena said through clenched teeth, glaring at her cousin.

It was the morning after the Summer party, Nyx and Thena sat in his father’s meeting room, waiting for their lesson of the day to begin. They made it home right before sunrise and Nyx hadn’t been able to sleep. He laid in his bed, body buzzing and electrified. Every time he closed his eyes, those brown eyes stared back at him. Surprisingly, they were not caught sneaking out nor in.

“Where did you even go last night? Both you and Leith left me to fend for myself.”

“Bathroom.” The word came out suspiciously fast. Clearing her throat, she continued, “You didn’t seem to be missing us too much, anyways. Your new friend seems to be good company.” She made sure to emphasize the word “friend”.

Before Nyx could reply, the door to the office flew open. Both Nyx and Thena sat up straight at the sudden interruption. His father looked mad as hell; something was pissing him off. Or someone. Before he could inquire, he heard the perpetrator.

“This is the seventh case in five years, Rhysand. It’s fucking despicable that it’s still happening,” His aunt raged after his father, who plopped himself down in the chair at the head of the table. Loose papers rustled with the movement.

Nyx gave his cousin a confused look, but neither one of them spoke up. They knew not to get between the pair when they were bickering.

“Wing clipping has been banned for over five hundred years, girl,” Nyx heard his father’s second say coolly, before moving around the corner and coming into view. Amren stood by his father’s side, crooped black hair swaying.

“And it has not stopped anything because you continue to let these sadistic bastards stay in charge.” His aunt glared at the two of them with her blue-grey eyes, her hands clenched into tight fists at her side. Nyx swore silver sparked off of her.

“Would you rather me dictate every citizen in this court, Nesta?” His father’s voice boomed through the room. The windows rattled. “I allow them to govern themselves. I give them free will and so things will inevitably slip through the cracks. That is how wheels continue to turn. That is how I keep my family, your family, and this city safe. I advise you not to question my leadership until you’ve ruled your own court.”

“That is ridiculous, barbaric thinking. Where’s Feyre? I doubt she would be okay with this horeshit,” Nesta spat. The outer rings of her eyes now definitely blazed silver.

“She’s with the babe. And I suggest you calm the fuck down around my child.” His father slammed his hands on the table, Nyx’s abandoned pen fell to the floor.

As if just now realizing where she was, Nesta snapped her eyes to Nyx and Thena. Her power banked, ever so slightly.

“How wonderful it is that your daughter never has to worry about her wings being clipped. I hope you find it in yourself to spare mine from the horror,” Nesta chuckled darkly. “Fifty years ago, Emerie had her wings clipped. Fifty gods-damn years, and shit is still happening under your nose, Rhysand.”

“Which is horrible. But change takes time, girl. You’ll realize one day that fifty years is nothing. That five-hundred years is just a speck in the grand scheme of things,” Amren spoke knowingly. The female was apparently over fifteen thousand years old, a number completely unfathomable to Nyx.

However, Nesta disregarded her completely as she glared at Nyx’s father. “If you don’t take action now, then I will.” His aunt glanced to his cousin, her gaze softening. “For my daughter. For my friend. For the ones who do not have the luxury of a good father or of living in a protected city.”

Without a second look at his father, Nesta stormed out of the room. Her movements swift in her black leather combat suit, twin swords glinting in the sunlight. Nyx looked back at his father. The male’s jaw was clenched tight, his violet eyes dark and burning with ire.

“You two are dismissed. Apparently, we have more pressing matters to discuss,” Amren said exasperatingly, waving them off. Nyx had a feeling they did not even want them privy to this conversation to begin with, but his aunt was always full of surprises.

Nyx and Thena packed up their notebooks and left. He didn’t know how to feel about the whole thing. They made it halfway down the hall before his cousin was running out the sliding glass door and into the garden. When Nyx reached her, she was hunched over, spewing her guts up in a colorful flowerbed.

Grimacing at the sound, Nyx held her wavy brown hair back. He’d never seen his cousin hungover to this degree before. Either the Summer Court had bad wine or her mother’s outburst had set her on edge.

Finally, the vomiting stopped, and the sound of chirping birds filled the silence. Nyx helped Thena stand on shaky legs.

“Let’s go get some water, yeah?” Nyx began to walk away, but Thena didn’t budge. He turned to face her.

“I…” She shook her head slowly. “I can’t imagine not being able to fly. You know how the wind calls to us, Nyx.” Her hazel eyes shone with horror; the tips of her wings twitching over her shoulders.

“I know. It’s fucking insane. He has to do something.” He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “He will.”

Nyx knew there had been unrest in parts of the court, but that was bound to happen in any court. There would always be bad people doing bad things. But he was sure his father wasn’t one of them. He would find a way to stop it for good.

“Gods, I hope so. I really do.” Thena shook her head again, wiping the stream of tears from her face. Whether they were from her vomiting, or from the news, Nyx wasn’t sure. Possibly a mixture of both.

“Let’s get out of here.” He wrapped his arm around her muscled shoulders, leading her out of the garden gate and near the pathway along the river.

They walked the streets of Velaris in silence for a while, the only sound between them were their shoes on cobblestone. Nyx played around with solutions in his head. He wasn’t sure how he could help the Illyrian females, but he didn’t want to just sit around and twiddle his thumbs.

Especially not when it affected his cousin so much. To not be able to fly, to not taste that freedom…Nyx’s stomach churned at the idea. His mother had just given birth to a female babe with wings six months ago. To imagine his sister’s flying ability being taken away from her before she could even learn how to crawl filled him with anger beyond imaginable. His blood roared, shadows creeping over him.

Random citizens smiled widely at him as they passed, some even bowed their heads at him in respect. But he didn’t feel at home. Not today. He felt sick thinking about the freedom this part of his court had that others did not.

He had to get the fuck out of this city for a while.

Chapter Text

Saria sat on the floor of the sunroom, an old history book placed on her lap, legs crisscrossed.

“You said they looked like bat wings?” Clover quipped from above her. Her friend stroked the brush through Saria’s long blonde curls.

“Yes. I’ve never seen anybody else with wings like his before,” Saria flipped through the ancient pages of the book. She found it in the very back of the library, behind a stack of old paintings, and had to actually blow dust off of the cover. ‘Creatures of the Night’, the title said. Nyx was far from a creature, but it was worth a try.

The late afternoon sun shone through the stained-glass windows, casting the room in rainbow light. It was just after sunrise when she found Cresseida bidding farewell to her companion. The Summer Court female winnowed Saria back to the Spring manor where they ate breakfast before Cresseida left again. Something to do with court duties. Saria didn’t particularly care to know details, not with her mind whirring.

Clover showed up soon after, almost ripping at the seams to hear about the night before. Gossip was one of their favorite hobbies, after all.

Saria filled the female in on the party. The dancing and the music. Most importantly, on the beautiful male she met with dark, mysterious wings.

“Ugh. I’m so jealous, Sari. I’m never going to meet any handsome fae cooped up in that house,” Clover huffed out, sectioning a chunk of her hair into three. Her friend did not have the same luxuries as Saria. She could not travel to the Summer Court at her own leisure. Saria tried so many times, but her persuasiveness couldn’t get the female’s mother to cave. Even suggesting one of Clover’s seven brothers coming along hadn’t worked.

“Well, maybe one of your brothers will actually be useful and bring a good-looking friend home,” Saria teased the pale brunette behind her, flipping another page. Clover tugged roughly on one of the strands. Saria chuckled.

The two hung out for a while, laughing and joking about nothing and everything. Clover had braided and unbraided Saria’s hair about a thousand times before she sighed.

“It’s almost sunset. I have to go,” She patted Saria’s head and maneuvered herself out of the daybed.

“I wish you could stay,” Saria whined, standing up and following her to the door.

“I know. But mother calls,” The young female rolled her eyes before embracing Saria in a hug. For as long as Saria could remember, her friend was not allowed outside after sunset. Her mother feared the night, for some reason. “I’ll see you later?”

“Of course,” Saria hugged her back and held onto the open door as Clover walked down the stairs. “Get home safe.”

“Always!” The female called over her shoulder, pink dress rustling in the wind.

The silence was the first thing Saria noticed when she walked back into the manor. Her mother and father were still away at the Winter Court. There were no servants here, not since her mother had found a spell for tidy homes. She knew the book she left discarded on the floor would be tucked away neatly on her bedroom desk by now. It was a useful spell, but it made the place a bit…unwelcoming at times. Less lived in. Less homely.

Saria made her way up the swirling, white marbled staircase. Her sky-blue day gown trailed behind her like cascading waters off a cliff.

She tried not to focus on the silence as she sat at her desk, sketching in her journal. She’d long given up on the Nyx research. The smell of the old book made her head ache. Instead, she focused on her own research. Of insects, and animals and flowers and…shifting. How they looked, how they moved, how they grew, how she could force her body to do the same. The power had shown up on her 10th birthday, nothing but a kernel at first. But now, she could make small changes to herself. Purple colored nails, a strand of green hair. The power grew more every day, and she felt that sketching it out on paper helped her.

The flame in her lantern flickered out and she took that as a sign to go to bed. Humming quietly, she made her way to the open window. The moon high in the sky. Saria couldn’t help but think about the night before. How she laid under the same sky with Nyx. The way he looked at her. Her heart jumped at the thought. Silently, she closed the window and shut her curtains.

Saria had just dozed off when she heard it. A tap. Her nostrils flared, but she did not scent anything. She closed her eyes, deciding it was just her imagination until she heard it again. Coming from her window. A knock. And then another one.

Slowly, so very slowly, Saria stood from her bed. She grabbed the first thing she saw that could even possibly be a weapon. An old cricket stick. And at the handle of the stick was…well, it was the head of a green cricket. She rolled her eyes but held on tightly to it anyways.

As silently as she could, she moved closer to the window. Maybe she was dreaming or truly going insane, but she swore she could hear flapping. As if a giant bird had taken flight right outside her bedroom window. A knock came again. Saria sucked in a breath, raising the make-shift weapon in one hand and threw the curtains open with the other.

Her heart raced as she took in the sight before her. Shining in the moonlight, dressed in all black attire with large wings holding him up, was a smirking Nyx.

“Hello, Daughter of Spring.”

Chapter Text

“Are you insane?” Saria whisper-yelled, grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him inside. “Get in before the sentries shoot you out of the damn sky.” Though they didn’t have servants, her father employed sentries to watch over the manor while he was away, and she didn’t really want to explain why a male with overgrown bat wings was outside her bedroom window.

His boot-clad feet stumbled on the windowsill, and he gripped Saria’s shoulders, leaning on her for support.

“It would take more than an arrow to take me out.” He huffed out a laugh. His black curls were disheveled, the top buttons of his shirt undone. Their eyes met, and she found it incredibly difficult to breathe.

“I—,” She breathed in through her nose and his scent hit her like a brick wall. Lilac, oranges and…liquor. Something far stronger than the Summer Court wine. Her nostrils burned at the smell. She took a small step away from him. Just enough to clear her mind.

“Are you drunk?” She asked, brows furrowing. This whole situation felt like some very, very strange dream.

His answering smile was feline. “I might have had a couple of drinks before coming here.”

He moved away from her, swaying a bit as he examined her room. She was suddenly very self conscious of everything compiled in her bedroom. It was tidy, for the most part. Her mother’s spell kept everything clean and mostly organized. But was the pink canopy over her bed too frilly? The stuffed toy fox on her bed too childish? Oh, gods, she still had the cricket stick in her hand. She quickly placed it behind the curtains.

When she turned back to Nyx, he had found his way to her desk. He surveyed the paintings she hung up to dry earlier. Various wings, from multiple insects and animals. Butterflies, dragonflies, birds, and everything in between. Her cheeks reddened as he lingered on one for a moment longer than she was comfortable with. A pair of bat wings.

Saria cleared her throat, “How did you know where to find me?”

“These.” He turned towards her and motioned his hand to the drawings. “Well, kind of. You said you studied insects and flowers. I obviously connected that to the Spring Court.”

Nyx shrugged, as if that answered everything. She blinked at him. “But there are thousands of homes in this court. I doubt you knocked on the window of every house.” Saria crossed her arms over her chest, the fabric of her thin nightgown shifting with the movement. Good gods, she needed to put on real clothes.

“I would knock on every door and window if it meant finding you.” Her heart leapt at his words, but she reeled it back in when she saw his playful smirk. “Let’s just say that the tavern goers love to talk about their beloved Princess of Spring. I asked about a blonde, young female named Saria. They were quick to reply. Some even bought me a drink. Or two.” He shrugged. The dimples of his cheeks gleamed in his lazy smile. “It all led me to you.”

“They are very kind to me,” She mumbled, picking a piece of invisible lint from her nightgown.

“Well, you are a remarkable female, Saria.” He lightly traced a finger over one of the bat wings. Saria’s blush deepened, heart fluttering rapidly over the words. And then even faster when his attention moved to her journals.

“Are you hungry?” She blurted out as his fingers trailed over to her stack of notebooks. No way in hell would he read those. “You should eat, if multiple people bought you a couple of drinks. It adds up quickly. I can cook you something,” She rambled, trying to draw his attention away.

“I’ll eat whatever you make me, princess.” His hand paused, her journal halfway opened. Blue eyes sparkled under his heavy eyelids as he moved away from her desk.

Saria rolled her eyes, fighting her lips from curling up into a smile. “Come on, then.”

She led the way out of her room and down the stairs into the kitchen. They walked silently, but strangely, the quiet did not weigh on her as it had before.

———

“Eat up.” Saria placed a plate of eggs, bacon and bread down for Nyx. Nothing spectacular, but enough to soak up the liquor in his system.

He grabbed the fork and dug in. Saria watched the male in awe. At the muscles in his bare forearm, his black sleeves rolled up, constricting with the movement of bringing the fork to the plate. The way his mouth moved when taking a bite, the sharpness of his jaw. He truly was the most beautiful male she had ever seen. She was convinced that she would forever be enchanted by him. Like a moth to a flame.

Saria looked away, trying to clear her mind. The fact that he was sitting at her dining table a day after they met was beyond confusing. “Why did you come here?”

Nyx looked up; face contorted in confusion. He placed the fork down, plate now half empty. “To see you?” He said it as if the circumstances weren’t insane to him.

“No, I’ve gathered that. But why now? Why not wait until tomorrow?”

“I was upset. At my father. At life. I won’t bore you with the details.” He took a sip of water and shrugged. “I didn’t really think, just jumped into the skies to clear my head. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Well, Nyx, I don’t think you could ever bore me. Granted, I don’t know much about you, but you seem like a fascinating individual.” She stared into his piercing blue eyes. Something tugged in her chest. “You can stay here for the night.”

“Thank you,” he said, eyes softening. “For the meal. And for everything.” The food seemed to have sobered him up, but shadows still lingered on his face. She would not push; he would tell her on his own time if he chose to do so. But whatever happened with his father must have been weighing heavily on him.

Saria simply nodded at the male, and they sat in comfortable silence as he finished his meal.

———

Nyx laid on a large, plush mattress. The bed riddled in soft blankets and fluffy pillows. After dinner, he bathed, borrowing Saria’s lavender soap. She also lent him an old tunic and pants from her father.

Saria blew the lantern out and laid in bed next to him. Her wild blonde curls rested on his arm; warmth spread through his body. He watched the shadow of the rustling willow tree as minutes ticked by. He didn’t fully understand what had called him here, perhaps it was just the need to be out of Velaris. To be near someone who did not know the politics of his court. He flew around the Night Court for a while in deep thought, over the snow-covered mountains and through the deep valleys. And Saria’s strikingly beautiful face kept popping up in his head like a beacon of glowing light on the darkest of waters. A golden thread pieced together what she had said the night before, and he followed it all the way to Spring. What it meant, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Do you think there are other worlds out there?”

Saria started, as if surprised he was still awake. “Other worlds?”

“Yeah. I think I would like to travel to them.”

“And what do you hope to find in these other worlds?” Her soft, sleepy voice was like music to his ears.

Nyx shrugged, “Less problems.”

He spent all day trying to come up with solutions to the wing clippings. The act was already banned, he wasn’t sure what more he could do without somehow convincing his father to imprison the lords of Illyria. But even then, that’d just cause more hysteria with the rest of the bastards in those camps. Frankly, he was fine with those sexist pigs dying but he knew there had to be a reasonable explanation as to why his father was not killing them all. Plus, it would not reverse the harm done by the clippings. There was no healing magic nor procedure that could reverse it. The undoing was a bigger issue of its own.

“A problem can always be solved, you know,” She said, yawning loudly and turning on her side. “I suggest giving it a try before escaping off into another world. You might find things to be far more complicated over there.”

Nyx rolled his eyes but chuckled softly. They sat in silence, the only sounds being their soft breathing, until he finally closed his heavy eyelids. “Good night, princess.”

Her soft snores answered in return.

Chapter Text

Saria’s eyes fluttered open, the sun radiating into her room through her bedroom window. She felt strong hands wrapped around her, a body pressed against her. Saria leaned into the warmth, lilac and oranges and her own lavender soap engulfing her senses, pulling at her heartstrings. Composing a song completely of its own.

Then she heard the front door closing. Her father’s voice, her mother’s airy laughter.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Wake up, Nyx.” She whispered, leaping out of bed. Her body instantly cold from being exposed to the early morning air.

Nyx started, sitting up straight. His disheveled hair at odds with his alert eyes. “What is it?”

“My parents are home,” Saria attempted to pull the male up, but he was a unit completely of his own caliber. “You have to go. Now.”

Nyx smiled wryly. “Are you afraid to be caught with me, Saria? What would Daddy Spring say about this?” Despite his teasing, Nyx stood from her bed and began walking to the door.

“I doubt ‘Daddy Spring’ would do much talking. Especially if you walk out that damn door,” She whisper-yelled, giving him an incredulous look. “Leave through the window.”

“You talk like you’ve done this before,” He stared at her, angling his head. She shrugged. He gasped. “Are you saying I’m not the first male to sleep in your bed? You wound me, princess.” He held his hands over his chest in mock hurt as he walked towards her window.

Saria rolled her eyes but followed him. He threw the window open and leapt out. Saria peered out when he didn’t immediately reemerge, just as he spread his wings wide and flapped. He floated back up, beautiful face inches away from her own. The sun shone through his wings, casting them a deep reddish brown. She didn’t realize how big they were before now. She wanted to reach out and touch them, just to see what they felt like.

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

She took her eyes off of his wings and focused on his face. On his sparkling blue-grey eyes. Maybe it was from the sunlight, but she swore there were flecks of violet. So minuscule that they were barely there. But she saw them.

“Will you come back?” Saria asked.

“Of course. Whenever you’ll have me.”

“My parents will be away in two weeks,” She shrugged, wringing her hands together. “Maybe you can visit? During the day.”

“I would love that, Saria.”

They shared one last smile before Nyx flew off. Saria sat for a while; eyes still focused on where he had been. The smile stayed on her face as she dressed and made her way down the stairs to greet her parents.

———

It was midday, the sun at its peak, and Saria shared a hunk of cheese and bread with her father. Her training paused for lunch.

They left on horseback right after she greeted them that morning. Her father had swept her in a tight hug, her mother gushing about the Winter Court. How well Viviane was doing, how handsome their son had gotten, how Saria would agree. Saria raised her eyebrow up in doubt at that. The Son of Winter was a lanky, awkward thing the last time she saw him. He could not have changed that much in three years. Her mother quickly excused herself so she could go experiment with some of the winter herbs she acquired, she was practically glowing with excitement. Her father rolled his eyes at the woman, but his smile could not have been bigger.

They now laid in a field of flowers, willow trees, full of drooping pink and purple wisteria, shading them from the sun’s wrath. Saria flipped through the pages of the old book propped up on her folded legs.

“What are you reading?” Her father quipped, blonde hair blowing in the wind. Saria turned the book until the cover was visible to him. His eyes widened slightly, but he continued toying with the flowers. “‘Creatures of the Night’? Why would you want to read about that?”

“Wing research.” A blue butterfly landed on the open page, its wings fluttering. “When I was in Summer, I saw a male with leathery wings. Like a bat. I have been curious since.”

She swore her father bristled, but maybe it was just the wind. His fingers paused on the flower stems he was looping together. “Ah,” he stood, dusting his pants off before continuing, “And do you wish to sprout these wings?”

Saria considered. The wings were beautiful. Breathtakingly gorgeous. But on Nyx. If she grew wings, she wanted them to be her own. She looked down at the butterfly, as it took flight into the open air. Wings fluttering elegantly in the wind.

“No. I want butterfly wings. Or dove wings. Something lively.”

Her father placed the crown of flowers he’d been working on atop her head. “Then so you shall, my daughter.” He smiled down at her, extending his hand. She took it and he lifted her from the ground. “Let us get you those wings.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon training. The exercises focused on breathing, on letting the outside world go and searching within. Finding that drop of power and letting it coax through the veins. Letting it fuel the soul, like the Mother intended.

By sunset, Saria had materialized a feather on her right shoulder blade. Her father laughed as he spun her through the air.

———

They were on their way back home, now well into night. The crescent moon shone down on them through the canopy of trees. Crickets filled the quiet night with their chirps.

“Illyrians.”

Saria whipped her head to her father, the male stared straight ahead. The hooves of their horses crunched over rocks and sticks.

“What?” She asked, brows furrowed.

“The wings you are searching for. They belong to the Illyrians.”

“Oh.”

“They are a race from the Night Court. They…” He swallowed hard. “I would like it if you did not associate with them. Illyrian males do not have a good track record of being kind to females.”

Saria silently nodded. But her mind whirled as they finished the ride home. Nyx had not been unkind to her, but her father’s reaction had set her on edge. She quickly ate dinner with her parents and bathed. Hair still wet, she sat down at her desk and opened the old book.

She skimmed the pages until she finally landed on one. ‘Illyrian: Demon of War’.

She read about them: the war legions, how they were considered to be lower fae, their rounded ears and the siphons they used.

Nyx did not have siphons. Maybe he didn’t have power, but his arched ears and the way he carried himself suggested otherwise. He did not move like a lower fae.

She flipped the page and read about the females. The wing clippings, how the flight was taken from them so they would breed. She felt sick to her stomach.

Saria flipped another page. A new section. ‘The High Lord of the Night Court’, it was titled. She’d heard of him in passing and briefly in lessons. Rhysand. He was feared by many, but the book said he was the one responsible for the ban on clipping. She could not imagine the male to be that bad. The page described his black hair, his violet eyes. His incredible powers.

She turned the page to an illustration. A realistic portrait of the High Lord. Saria stared down at the male, at his black hair and violet eyes. His features so similar to the male in her bed this morning. Her fingers trembled as she traced the outline.

She thought about the orrery talk, the constellation lessons. The dark attire and the wings. How often she had caught him staring up at the moon and stars.

Nyx. The Son of Night.

Chapter Text

Nyx had just made it home and changed when he got the summons from his father, via mind. The communication had been weird. His father somehow sounded tired through the line. His voice muffled, like he was under water or far away, though they were both in the same house.

Nyx’s pulse picked up as he slowly opened the door to the study. He’d be in deep shit if his father found out he snuck out of Velaris. Twice, now. Darkness ambushed him as he stepped into the room.

“Leave the light off.” His father’s stern voice said. Nyx’s eyes adjusted to the light, or the lack of since the curtains were drawn tight, until he could just make out his father’s silhouette. Nyx’s worries materialized to something else entirely as he beheld the state of his father. He was leaning back in his black
leather armchair, palms pressed firmly against his eyes. He rubbed at them lightly, like he was trying to coax something out.

“The headaches are back?” Nyx asked, walking to the large desk in the middle of the room. Papers and documents littered the surface of the dark wood.

“Technically, they never went away. Just weren’t so prevalent,” He moved his hands and looked at Nyx. Shoulders sagging and eyes a bit droopy, thanks to the bags now taking refuge there. “Madja’s medicine has not been helping. I can barely stand the sight of light now.”

“Does she know why they’re happening?” Nyx sat in the chair facing his father.

“No. We’ve been doing research, but we’ve just been going in circles. Even The—“ Wincing in pain, his father rubbed his temple. He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “Thesan has not been able to find anything in his libraries, either. And hearing about new clippings has not helped anything.”

Nyx’s heart sank. His father had suffered with headaches for as long as he could remember, but it never affected him this badly. Usually, one of Madja’s healing potions was enough to get him through the day. Something was very, very wrong. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

His father took a sip of his water, hand shaking ever so slightly. Nyx knew his father was doing everything in his power to fight the pain from showing. It must be excruciating if it made his hands tremble. “Actually, there will be a showing of your sister in the Hewn City this week. I would like you there.”

Nyx nodded and bid his father farewell before walking into the hallway. The light of the sun shining through the floor-to-ceiling window felt like a warm caress on his now too-cold skin. Leaning his forehead against the warm glass, he took in a deep breath. And then another. He stood there for a while, collecting himself for what was to come.

———

The fae under the Moonstone Palace were barbaric, at best. Nyx had only been in the Hewn City a handful of times, but he always left feeling disgustingly dirty.

One of his last memories of the city was of an enormous brute being dared to drink a whole keg of ale while balancing upside down on his hands. A crowd gathered around him, people placing bets on whether or not he could do it. It ended in the male passed out in his own vomit and a fight breaking out over a “manipulated” outcome. Sadly, the accuser brought a fist to a knife fight. Five fae died in that brawl.

After tearing into his father, his mother had declared the Court of Nightmares off limits for Nyx and he had not been back since. That was over fifteen years ago.

His parents would visit on occasion, just to keep everyone in check. They had a role to play. Powerful rulers who had the upper-hand, and who would not hesitate to strike if they felt the need to.

The citizens of the Hewn City now all knelt to their High Lord and High Lady. Nyx sat on his father’s right side. His mother to the left, the babe cradled in her bare arms, sleeping peacefully. Not even aware of the evil lurking around her.

“I come here today to present our daughter. Your High Lady gave birth six months ago to a beautiful female babe,” Although he kept his head held high, Nyx could hear the slight wobble in his father’s voice. He hoped others could not, for his father’s sake. The Court of Nightmares was never a bright place, but he had a feeling the complete dimness of the room was of his father’s doing. “Please rise for Stella.”

His mother held up the babe, her little violet eyes fluttering open. The crowd rose from their knees. His father nodded his head once and they began cheering simultaneously, like a lit match to a field of grass. Nyx quietly laughed to himself, at how ridiculous the whole thing was. They’d presented Stella to Velaris a week after her birthing when his mother was recovered enough to walk. No one bowed. The cheers were not orchestrated. The smiles were real, and the sun reflected off the crowd. There was no light here. They did not care about this child.

“Go and celebrate the birth of my daughter.” Rhysand waved the crowd off. They parted and made beelines for the food, drinks and dance floor. The band began playing a lively, upbeat song. It reminded him of that Summer Party a few days ago. Gods, was it that recent? It felt like a lifetime has passed since then.

Members of their Inner Circle crept up to them. Their movements sharp and lethal here. Nyx studied them as they stared down their noses at the Hewn City residents. He understood why they felt the need to play this role, but it didn’t make it any less absurd to witness in person. It was so unlike their normal, relaxed dispositions. Well, all of them except Amren. She was always this stoic.

As they reached the edge of the dais, an invisible bubble wrapped around them. To block out their conversations from unwanted ears, he presumed.

Nyx stood as his uncle walked up to him. He smiled widely at the muscled male. He had always been a bit jealous of the general’s large build. When asked how he could look like that, Cassian slapped him on the back and said, “Give it five hundred more years, buddy”. Now, Nyx wasn’t sure if it was entirely worth it after hearing his uncle’s war stories and what he had to endure.

“Well, don’t you look like a royal pain in my ass tonight?” Cassian gripped Nyx’s shoulders with one hand, while flicking his crown of stars with the other.

Nyx quirked an eyebrow at the male, “You should really see a healer if you have ass pains,” He said, slapping the male on the back.

“I was going to say something until I remembered Nesta is your aunt, so I’ll be good and bite my tongue.”

Nyx grimaced at the male. Cassian winked, before walking away. His uncle was still chuckling when he reached Nyx’s father.

Nyx’s eyes traveled to his mother. She was smiling up at something his aunt said. The blonde female now held Stella, gushing down at his sister. Nyx found himself thinking about another blonde-haired female.

They’d agreed to meet in a week’s time, and he was counting down the hours until he got to see her again. The past few nights, he laid awake in bed, watching the painted constellations on his ceiling; his mother had glamoured them to glow in the dark. Between his father’s noticeable absence around Velaris, Thena’s worrisome expression every time they hung out and the impending Hewn City meeting, sleep was difficult to find. And the bed felt so…empty. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the one in Spring.

Nyx looked back at his father. He looked like he was listening to Cassian, but Nyx knew he was not. His eyes often closed for too long during blinks. His breathing a bit shallow, his grip on the throne too tight. To anyone else, his father probably looked fine. Like the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, with his sleek black outfit and crown placed atop his neatly styled hair. But Nyx knew.

Nyx adverted his eyes, shaking his head to clear the thoughts. He needed a drink. He reached out to his mother. He hit a wall, before he was let in. “Can you lower the shield before I piss all over this dais?”

Her beautiful laugh filled his mind before the shield lifted. All of the sounds from the party rushed into his ears at once. The band, glasses clinking, silver cutlery on porcelain. Talking and laughing. His father winced, the crown tilting slightly on his head.

Nyx quickly walked down the dais and into the crowd. He dodged a couple of groping faeries and a heated argument before he found himself in an empty hallway.

He walked down the almost pitch-black corridor, the lit candles on the wall did very little to light the walkway. Nyx had never been beyond the main hall of the Hewn City. He knew his aunt had been born here. Had escaped it. But he never knew what the actual city looked like.

And it didn’t look like much. It looked like a hallway carved out of a mountain, the floor and walls bare rock. Nyx continued down the long, empty hallway until he reached another door. His hand found the cold metal knob and he twisted it.

Nyx’s eyes grew wide at what he saw. A courtyard. Well, as much as a courtyard could be a courtyard under a mountain. Too-thin children in drab clothing kicked a ball across the room. Children. He did not know they existed in the Hewn City, had not even thought about it, if he were being honest.

But here they were, a group of thirteen children playing as their family celebrated in the other room. The ball rolled towards him, stopping at his feet. Nyx stood frozen in the archway as a sickly pale girl raced towards him. She looked up at him and smiled before picking up the ball and running back to the group, her bare feet kicking up dirt in her wake. Nyx backed out of the doorway, shutting the door.

He felt nauseous. Those children were not well. Their bones visibly poking through their skin, eyes sunken in. If they were born here, then they had never seen the sun before. Had never seen the moon or stars. Had never felt the wind. They were not allowed it in the Hewn City. His mother and father had never mentioned children before, did they even know about them? He had to tell them.

When he reached the throne room, his heart pounding and head spinning, the leader of the Court of Nightmares, Keir, was standing at the dais talking to his father. He could not make out the words over the music, but the males seemed to be having a heated discussion. He rushed through the crowd, dodging dancing bodies to reach them. His father stood. Or tried to.

His mother’s scream echoed through the crowd as his father crumpled to the floor.

Chapter Text

The heel of Nyx’s black boot sunk into the plush green grass, grasshoppers jumped in the air, fleeing for safety from his wrath.

It had been a week since his visit to the Hewn City. His mother quickly winnowed the four of them back to their home in Velaris, Nyx holding his unconscious father upright. His aunt winnowed away to find Madja, and they arrived at the river house soon after. Amren and his uncle stayed in the Hewn City to play mediators. ‘So the Court of Nightmares would not take this as opportunity to riot’ had been his father’s second’s choice of words.

His father woke while Madja checked his vitals, all of which were clear. Nyx’s mother sobbed when his father joked about them fussing over him. Madja declared the fainting a result of lack of sleep and food. She prescribed him a week of bed rest. His father protested, but his mother insisted. Nyx knew he would not leave the bed, just for the sole purpose of easing the worry off of his mate’s face.

Nyx spent the rest of the days in his lessons with Thena, Amren taking charge of teaching while his father was out. The classes moved faster with her. She did not linger on the smaller parts of history, of the casualties of innocent civilians. Only on the ‘what could have happened’, ‘what did happen’ and ‘what should have happened’. The female was thorough, that was for sure.

He often visited his father, he was awake and aware. His headaches were not as bad as they had been, but they were still there. Though, he did not want Nyx’s mother to know. Did not intend for anyone but Nyx and Amren to know. The secret laid heavy on Nyx’s shoulders.

Nyx watched his mother fuss over his father. She fluffed his pillow every hour, brought him a fresh cup of water when she felt his had gotten too warm. She often read tales of a sea-dragon and a princess of flames to him, Stella sleeping peacefully between them on the bed.

He spent his nights sneaking out with Leith and Thena. Although they did not risk leaving the city. Instead, they opted to walk the streets of Velaris, wandering into some of the smaller bars and drinking themselves silly. Leith told stories of his time away in Autumn Court, his father’s hounds chasing an old female fae in a dress made of peacock feathers. Apparently, someone had slipped a turkey leg between the folds of her large skirts. The trio laughed loudly, but he saw the shadows creeping on Thena’s face. On Leith’s face. Knew the same shadows laid on his, as well.

Nyx had not brought the children in the Hewn City up to anyone. He did not know how to. Between his father being bedridden, and his mother’s constant worrying, he did not want to add on to their plates.

Amren did not seem like the one to tell, either. He had a feeling the ancient female would write them off as a product of something greater. A necessary casualty for a safe court. A safe home. He did not feel that to be true, but her lack of concern for the clipped females made him hesitant to confide in her.

And he would not burden his friends with the news, especially not Thena. She had been quieter than usual since her mother’s outburst. He often found her staring off into nothing, hazel eyes lost and wandering. Her wings would twitch and she’d come back to reality, head rising and back straightening.

He would not burden Leith, either. While the young redhead often stayed in Velaris, his true home was in the Autumn Court. The male’s father had spent many years trying to usurp Beron, but it was the land that decided the High Lord. The only thing keeping the awful male alive was his wife. However, that did not stop Eris Vanserra from secretly sprouting doubt into the heads of the citizens of Autumn. It was complete and utter anarchy in those lands. Children were probably in more danger there than in the Court of Nightmares.

Nyx shook his head, trying to clear his mind of such negative things. He decided to walk the flower fields instead of flying straight to the manor. He hoped it would calm his nerves. He breathed in, the floral scents filling his nostrils. The wind blew, causing dandelion seeds to float around him like snowflakes. Nyx took in his surroundings, the sight truly mesmerizing.

Spring in Velaris was beautiful, but nothing like this. This felt pure, like the Mother herself walked these very lands and painted each and every petal with her own hands. He wondered if his own mother had been here before. He could picture her sitting in the middle of the field, easel set up, brushes splayed about, completely content in the beauty of it all.

Nyx smiled at the thought and kept walking. He made it to a clearing surrounded by willows when he heard a splash. He followed the sound of running water, ducking as birds flew over his head. They were not scared of him, as if wanderers in the woods was a common thing for them and they lived in harmony together. 

Nyx halted at the sight of the pond in front of him. In the middle of the grass-clad field, right in the center of the weeping willows, laid a pool of silvery sparkling water. He moved closed and made out the blues, pinks and purples shining through the water like stars.

A pool of starlight.

And emerging from the rippling waves, hair glowing golden in the sunlight, like a burning comet in the night sky, was Saria.

“Hello, Son of Night.”

———

Nyx’s breath hitched at her words, he knew she would inevitably find out but he hoped it would take longer. He knew the Night Court did not have the best reputation, especially to the seasonal courts. There were millennia long tensions between some of the courts, history he found too boring to fully pay attention to during his lessons.

He wasn’t ashamed to be the son of Night’s High Lord, but there were conversations he did not care to have. And he hated the way people changed when they found out his lineage. They often balked from him. He did not want that from Saria.

Nyx collected himself and stared at the female beaming up at him from the pool. Her beautiful head floated above the rippling starlight. “I see you’ve done your research, Flowerchild.”

“I always did excel in my studies.” She smirked, floating her way to shore. To him. Her body emerged from the water and Nyx’s breath hitched in his throat again.

The sheerness of her soaked white dress almost sent him to his knees. Her tan skin glowed brightly in the sun, the water droplets glittering in the rays, casting her in iridescent light. She was a light of her own, and Nyx knew she could lead him out of the darkest darks.

And she was so fucking beautiful.

Saria walked towards him, teeth shining bright through her wide smile, and Nyx met her halfway.

Butterflies of every color flew around them as he embraced her. He spun her around the field of wildflowers, she clinged tightly to him. Her laughter echoed through the woods. Birds sang in response. She slipped from his hands— thanks to the wet fabric of her dress and his shirt—and they landed on their backs in the bright green grass.

“Gods, I missed you, Saria.”

Chapter Text

Saria and Nyx laid together in the field, staring at the blue sky through the trees.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she responded, finally catching her breath from the laughing.

“Is that real starlight?”

“Apparently. My father claimed it to be a portal, though I’m not sure where to.” Saria leaned on her elbows, looking at the male next to her. His clipped black hair bristled in the wind. She found herself fighting the urge to reach over and brush it away from his forehead.

“You never wondered where it goes?” He asked, blue quizzical eyes finding her own.

Saria looked at the pool. She loved it, swimming in it had always been a comfort for her. When lessons grew difficult, she often found herself in the pool; the warm waters caressing her in an embrace. But she never wondered where it could lead her. Had not wanted to go anywhere else, truthfully. And knew she would rather go to Summer before anywhere else.

She shook her head at Nyx. “No,” she simply said.

Nyx nodded, but his expression seemed distant. Like he was thinking of something that weighed heavily on him.

Saria stood, her dress now almost completely dry. “Come on. I want to show you something.” She reached her hand out, and Nyx took it.

———

Saria led Nyx to another clearing, this one surrounded by rose bushes. Petals of reds, pinks, yellows, whites and oranges speckled around them. In the middle of the field laid a fluffy white blanket and a woven basket.

She observed Nyx as he took in his surroundings, his mouth agape. She wondered how the Night Court was if this scenery had him mesmerized. She hoped it was not how the book described it to be. A place so awful it created nightmares.

Saria cleared her throat, “My father planted these for my mother. A bush for each year they’ve been together. Twenty, currently.”

“That’s…” His voice trailed off. “That’s amazing.”

“I think so.”

She grinned at him before walking towards the blanket and sitting, Nyx followed suit.

“I heard your mother is a human, is that true?” Nyx quipped, playing with the fuzz of the blanket.

Saria nodded, rummaging through the basket—scents of the sweets within reached her nostrils and she almost moaned at the smell. She spent all night and morning nervously baking, too excited to sleep. Small pastries filled with various jams, vanilla cookies, loaves of bread and plump spring fruits filled the basket.

“I also heard that she’s a witch.”

“Both can be true.” she pulled out a container of treats and set it between them. She glanced at his face, his brows furrowed. “Witches are made, Nyx. Not born.”

He hummed lowly at that, “My mother was Made.”

“Yes. Feyre Cursebreaker. I’ve learned about her in my studies. We would not be here without her.” Saria stared out at the roses before continuing, “My mother is not Made like that. She is not fae.”

“Will she live a human’s life?” She knew what he meant. A short life. Humans barely made it past a hundred years, most were lucky enough to reach eighty, if ailments from the environment did not effect them.

“She has spells that prolong her life. But her body has already built tolerances against it. Eventually, it will not work,” She said quietly, blinking her eyes fast to ward off the tears. Her lashes brushed against her flushed cheeks. “It is the way the Mother has chosen. I am eternally grateful to even have her now.”

Her mother’s shortened life had never been a secret kept from her. It was something she always knew, and her father had made sure to instill the Mother’s grandiosity into Saria’s mind since she was a small child. It truly was remarkable to have even a sliver of time with one’s mate, and even more so with a mother.

Nyx rested his palm on her shoulder, rubbing tentatively. “Will your father follow her?”

Saria chuckled softly, “My father would follow her straight into the sun. They travel so much because it’s what she loves. She wants to see it all. My father would be more than content to stay here forever, but she’s always looking for an adventure.” She shook her head lightly, amused at the woman who birthed her. “I am to believe he would not be far behind her in that land of milk and honey. They are mates, after all.”

“What about you? Are you more fae or human? Or witch?”

She thought about it for a moment before answering. What was she, exactly? Honestly, she had never truly thought about it. No one had ever questioned her about it. She had magic from her father, studied the way of the world like her mother. She just…was.

“I am all. Equally. I cannot be one without the other,” She replied, opening the container and placing the lid back in the basket. “But I think my lifespan will be similar to my father’s. Either way, the Mother has already wield it to be.”

They sat in silence for a while, she had a feeling he was contemplating everything she’d just revealed to him. His parents probably did not have the problem of time running out, as they were both High Fae now. The idea would be a shock to most fae, especially ones regarded so highly. Nyx’s hand still rested on her shoulder, drawing light circles on the small of her back. Her body had gone wholly warm.

“I made these for you,” Saria said, clearing her throat and holding up the sweets. “But if you don’t like them, then it was my mother.”

Nyx shook his head, chuckling. He picked up a cookie and took a bite. He tapped his chin, as if in deep thought and Saria slapped his shoulder lightly. “Be serious.”

“It’s amazing.” He looked into her eyes, the blue twinkling in the light. “You’re amazing.”

Saria blushed but did not look away. She could not look away. Something in his gaze drew her closer to him. Like a rope was pulling them closer. Their foreheads brushed lightly, Nyx’s hand landed near her thigh, holding himself upright. Saria swallowed hard.

“Can I kiss you?” Nyx’s voice was barely a whisper. She’d wanted to kiss him since that very first night on the beach but had contained herself. Well, as much as she could with the alcohol running through her veins. And then he had been drunk and it did not feel right.

Saria nodded quickly against him. His eyes flicked from her own down to her lips and then his mouth found hers. She found his jaw with her hand and gripped the sharpness of it. Nyx’s tongue slipped into her mouth, his hand on the back of her head. Guiding her to the ground—the container of treats discarded to the side—Saria tasted the sweetness of the cookie on his tongue.

They laid like that for a while. On their sides, legs entangled and hands interwoven in strands of hair. The taste of sweet innocence still on Saria’s mouth as she broke from his lips.

She stared into his eyes, hands gripping his cheeks. They were both breathless as she giggled against his mouth, eyes crinkling. “I think I have been waiting for you my whole life, Nyx.”

Nyx’s dimples showed as he grinned and brought her into another kiss.

———
Over the next couple of months, Nyx would visit her in Spring. They’d meet once a week and kiss in the flower fields. Or in her bed. It did not go far, and they often found something to talk about before clothes came off. She wanted to savor it, didn’t feel the need to rush things along and she knew he felt the same. Or at least she believed that to be true, as he never pushed her further.

On one afternoon, Saria practically radiating with excitement, told Nyx to turn around when he met her by the lake. It wasn’t the starlight pool, this water was pure and clear.

“Is this where you stab me in the back?” Nyx joked, looking at her with a perplexed expression.

“Just do it,” She whined, waving her hand at him. He put his hands up in mock surrender and turned, clothes blowing in the wind. His dark wings tucked in tight against his white button up shirt.

Saria took in a shaky breath. She’d been practicing in her free time nonstop for the last few months. The lessons with her father left her absolutely exhausted but had been so beneficial. In the weeks since that feather sprouted, she’d been able to sprout a whole set of wings. All kinds of them, actually.

Her father fell to his knees the first time she did it. The setting sun shone through the large wings of white feathers attached to her back. Hers… but not. She’d gotten inspiration from a book she was reading. Malakim, they were called. She liked the way they felt, how the wind moved through them.

She couldn’t fly, of course. That was a lesson of its own, one she was not sure her father could teach her. She could watch birds fly but would need lessons from a real malakim. And since she didn’t know any—or if they even still existed—she could not fly. Not yet.

Saria closed her eyes, taking in another breath. She willed her mind to focus. Willed the power in her veins to flow freely. Slowly releasing her breath, Saria opened her eyes.

———

Nyx stared at the water; Saria had gone completely silent behind him. He was not sure what was happening, only that she had a surprise for him.

He watched the stream of the water, the lilly pads lightly moving with it. The sun’s reflection rippling. And then a flash of bright light. The fish near the surface bolted, seeking coverage in the deep end.

“Look,” Saria said, voice barely above a whisper.

Nyx turned and froze at what he saw.

Saria stood there, light pink dress billowing in the wind. Her golden-blonde hair flowing like a spool of dripping honey around her.

Her brown eyes shining bright as she beheld his face. But his focus was on her wings. Wings. She’d fucking grown wings.

Nyx took a step closer to her, to those pink shining wings. They were like butterfly wings. He stepper closer, until he was just a breath’s away from her. He analyzed the wings further and…

No, they weren’t butterfly wings at all. They were dragonfly wings.

The female before him had somehow grown dragonfly wings.

“I—,” He didn’t even know what to think. What to ask. Where to start. He was at a lost for words. He walked behind her so he could get a better look. “How?”

“Practice,” She quietly breathed. “I have shifting powers from my father. I can…grow…things.”

He’d heard about Tamlin’s powers but had not thought much about it. But this, this was something else entirely. She did not take form as his usual beast. Instead, she became something beautiful.

“Can I touch them?” He asked.

She nodded and Nyx grazed the wings with his fingertips. She twitched lightly but did not move away from his touch. “This is absolutely amazing, Saria.”

He racked his brain to convey the feeling of the wing but came up empty. They were soft but hard and resilient, something he’d never felt before. The sun shined through them, the pink of the wings casting an iridescent kaleidoscope of light onto the grass.

“I learned how to grow them last night.” Saria turned towards him, their chests almost pressing against the other. “I wanted you to be the first to see.”

Nyx cupped her face, bringing her closer to him. He kissed her forehead, then the tops of each cheek. “You are such a marvelous, breathtakingly beautiful female.” His mouth found hers.

Saria leaned into his touch, her back arching and wings spread wide.

They watched the sun set and the moon rise. The stars twinkled in the distance. He wished he could pluck one straight from the sky and gift it to her. She was worthy of the stars, of the moon. Of the whole damn sun.

Nyx had been fully enthralled by her since that first night in the Summer Court. Could not stop thinking about her after. But now…

Something else entirely had blossomed. His chest glowed around her; his worries seemed to dissipate. He felt like he could take on anything and everything with her by his side. It felt like his very soul was tied to hers. So, without a second thought, he declared a thought that had been sitting in his mind for weeks now.

“I want to take you to the City of Starlight.”

Chapter Text

Saria leaned on the stool, the palms of her hands sinking into the pink plush as her friend pulled the ribbons of the fabric back, drawing the bodice tight against her torso. Practically squeezing her ribs together. Saria gritted her teeth at the tightness but did not dare question it. If Clover was nothing else, at least she was efficient.

“I hope you don’t plan on taking this off tonight,” Clover said, tying the pale purple ribbons into a neat bow at the base of Saria’s back. “Or at least not by yourself.” Saria could practically hear the smirk in the female’s teasing voice.

“Please, it’d take more than a trip to a secret city for that.” Saria turned to her friend, huffing out in mock exasperation. Though, she was not sure if that was entirely true herself. She tried to take a deep breath, but the tightness of the dress prevented her from doing so. She rolled her shoulders, the stiff movement reminding her of those biannual Spring dances. The dresses were always a bit suffocating compared to the loose silk slips she normally wore, but usually worth it in the end. She expected this one to be the same. “At least I won’t slouch tonight.” The corners of her mouth slightly lifting was about as good as she could do with her nerves on edge.

“And you look absolutely divine, Sari. I really outdid myself.” Clover’s emerald eyes raked over Saria’s body and then the female let out an excited squeal. “Look!”

Clover led Saria out from behind the dressing partition, and to the tall light blue cheval mirror. Saria barely recognized herself as she stared back at her reflection. Her lips and cheeks were tinted a deep pink, courtesy of the berry concoction Clover whipped up in one of her mother’s mortar and pestle. Nothing overbearing, just enough to accentuate her features. Her brown eyes shone back at her, glowing brightly in the afternoon sun.

Saria’s usual unkempt wild curls were pushed back, half pinned up, with two small loose braids framing her face. Clover insisted on this hairstyle, claiming it would withstand the trip to Velaris best, and it’d be the easiest one to fix if activities became too “strenuous”. Saria lightly slapped the female’s thigh over the comment, but they both fell into a fit of laughter, the kind that kept them giddy throughout the afternoon. Saria noticed that the tiny white pearls weaved throughout the braids absorbed the color of the dress, twinkling like purple orbs in her golden hair.

And the dress…

The dress itself was beautiful. But on her, it was perfect. It wasn’t like a normal Spring ball gown, those of which had endless layers of heavy fabrics. No, the material was light and flowy. Besides the tight bodice, the dress was almost weightless. Saria partially twirled, letting the skirts flow. It looked like parts of the lilac fabric were dusted with a shimmering silver powder that glowed brightly as the light from the setting sun hit it through the open window. Small flowers: lavender, jasmine, and tuberose, were hand-stitched throughout the material. Each one so tiny and intricate, it must have taken the seamstress a lifetime to complete. Something only an act of true, patient love could achieve.

“Where did you find this dress, anyways? It’s stunning.” Her friend’s voice broke through the quiet room. Clover lightly traced the sheer purple sleeves of chiffon that fell from Saria’s shoulders and flowed loosely down her arms, like water over a cliff.

“I found it in one of the spare rooms.”

Days before, her and Clover had ventured out to every seamstress in the Spring Court, had talked extensively with them all and yet, nothing called out to her. Nothing caught her attention. Of course, she had plenty of dresses in her own closet to choose from, but nothing felt right. This night would be special, and she needed a special dress for it. She needed to look beyond perfect for it. Saria refused to fully admit it to herself, but she wanted to look perfect for him.

After rummaging through her and her mother’s closets, completely tearing apart both, she made up her mind to visit the Summer Court. Cresseida had impeccable style, Saria was positive the female would be able to help.

However, as she walked down the hall to the front door, one of the open bedrooms caught her attention. She’d been in every room in this whole damn manor--had spent her childhood playing in each one, creating stories of pure nonsense that somehow ended with every room a complete mess. Realistically, if there were any dresses of merit in any crevice of this house, she would have found them by now. Probably would have destroyed them beyond repair with her child recklessness years ago. But for some reason unbeknownst to her, her legs guided her through the open door.

It was a basic room, just a bed, desk and armoire. No outstanding characteristics to take note of. Her bare feet landed on the soft plush of the white fur rug as she made her way to the armoire. She swung the doors open, only to be met with disappointment. It was empty. Saria narrowed her eyes, huffing out a frustrated breath. She made to close the wooden doors, but something—a shimmer—caught her gaze. She tilted her head, squinting her eyes for a clearer view. Another flash of light. All the way in the back, at the bottom. As if something was trying to get her attention.

Saria reached in; her upper body almost entirely submerged in the armoire. Her fingertips brushed against something soft and smooth. Gauzy fabric, it felt like. She tugged on it, but to no avail. It must have been caught or stuck under something. Saria fumbled blindly with her hands, looking for any more of the fabric. But it was just the one piece, somehow tucked under a piece of smooth wood.

Well, all of it was smooth except for a small indentation. A latch, of sorts.

Saria tugged on it. The surface of wood gave way, opening. The bottom of the armoire served as a hidden cubby, then. How peculiar, she thought. She lifted the material out, sitting on her knees to fully inspect it.

Maybe it was a blessing from the Mother herself, for it was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen.

Now, she stared back at her reflection. Clover really did outdo herself. Saria marveled at how beautiful she looked, how her hair laid perfectly on her head, not a single strand out of place. She took in how the dress complimented her so well, how it oddly fit perfectly. How a dress in a hidden compartment had caught her attention as if it was begging to be worn. Begging to escape the darkness it had been stuffed into.

———

Nyx arrived shortly later; Clover was already gone. She wanted to stay but claimed she had to get home with the night coming. Even the chance to put a face to the hunky male they’d spent so many days cooing over did not outweigh her mother’s fears and superstitions. Saria waved the girl away, promising to set up a day for them to meet.
She’d been pacing the foyer, the small heels of her shoes clacking on the white marble, echoing through the quiet house. Her mother and father were away on another trip, she didn’t care to remember where, but were expected to return home soon. She debated on a shot of her mother’s amber liquor to help ease her nerves when a gentle knock sounded.

Saria rushed to the front door, but slowed down her steps, not wanting to appear too eager. When she finally reached the massive white door, she placed her shaky hand on the knob. She took a deep breath, filling her head with memories of the past few months. Of them lying in the grass, laughing and smiling. Of the light reflecting from Nyx’s blue eyes, and his wings splayed out wide basking in the sun after a swim. She knew him better than anyone else, and he knew her the same. She found a comfort in him she had not been able to find in anyone else, and tonight would not be any different. If anything, it would solidify what they already had built together. She slowly released her breath, her chest easing a bit for the first time that day.

Saria turned the doorknob and opened the door fully, taking stance right in the middle of the archway. Perfectly in his line of sight, the full moon reflecting on her silhouette like a stone statue in the middle of night's liveliest garden.

Chapter Text

Nyx took in her appearance. Wholeheartedly beautiful in her light purple dress, made up of flowers. Specifically, flowers of the night. For once, he found himself grateful for his aunt’s constant babbling about random botany facts in his adolescence. Before him, in all of her golden glory, Saria was a glowing sigil of night’s eternal life. The light from the moon reflected off her dress, casting her in a silvery light. And yet, through it all, her golden hair glowed brightly. She looked as if the sun met the moon, completely at odds with the other, but so mesmerizingly beautiful.

“Hello,” the female peeped sheepishly, her hands nervously clenched fabrics of her dress. He’d never seen her so put together—and so on edge—before. He knew he looked the same, in his tailored black pants, immaculate black button-up shirt, accessorized with his rapidly beating heart.

“You look enchantingly lovely tonight, if I may say so,” Nyx said, grinning wide as he held out his hand for her. Saria rolled her big brown eyes but placed her small hand into his palm. Her soft and delicate skin sent waves of flames throughout his entire body. His heart seemed to skip a beat. Or two.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Son of Night.” Saria brought his hand to her lips and pressed a small kiss on the back of it before holding on to it tighter. Butterflies took flight in his abdomen and Nyx watched her throat; it bobbed once as she swallowed hard. As if swallowing her nerves down whole in a single gulp. “Well, let us go to this city of yours, then.”

Nyx nodded, locks of his black hair falling over his forehead as he sketched a bow. “So we shall, my dear.”

He led her out the front door and into the courtyard, the willow trees around them swayed in the wind, dancing to the tune of crickets chirping and frogs ribbiting. They stopped in the middle of the field, and he looked down, staring into those brown eyes; the color forever etched in his memory. They weren’t just brown. No, that description was far too simple to describe them. They were golden in the light and warm and soft and… electrifying. He could spend hours looking into them, and he was sure he would, if tonight went well.

Nyx leaned down, lightly brushing his mouth against hers. How a touch so small and tender could have his very bones blazing was beyond him. Everything regarding his feelings for the beautiful female before him was truly beyond him. “Are you ready to fly, Saria?” He whispered against her lips.

---

Saria’s legs wobbled a bit as her feet hit the hard ground, the adrenaline from the flight still coursing through her blood. She gripped tightly onto Nyx’s shoulders and fell into a fit of hysterical laughter. She wasn’t sure why, other than the fact that she had just flown.

She fucking flew.

Well, not with her own wings, but it was close enough. And perhaps one day, she would do it alone. Though, she did not mind the company she was in. A chill crept down her spine from the mountain winds, and Saria found herself missing Nyx’s touch.

As if hearing her thoughts, Nyx pulled her in tight against him, kissing the top of her head. Her hair, thankfully, was still in place after the flight, courtesy of Clover’s expertise. She would have to make sure to bring her friend a special gift home.

“Do you feel my heart?” Saria breathed against his chest. The organ in her own chest felt like it was going a million beats per second. Like it’d grown wings of its own and couldn’t help but flap them vigorously.

“I can always feel your heart, princess,” He mumbled into her hair.

Saria pulled away, lightly slapping his chest. “Stop calling me that.” She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks betrayed her by heating. She tried to fight it by walking towards the edge of the clearing they were in. A valley between mountains with no sign of civilization in sight. Just tall trees, rocks and some vegetation.

“Why can I not say it? Are you not the Princess of Spring?”

“Well, in that case, I guess I should start calling you ‘prince’, then.”

Saria heard Nyx release a sound of disgust as she surveyed her surroundings more. Nothing jumped out at her. She was almost certain he was messing with her by bringing her here.

She turned back towards him, placing a hand on her hip, “And where is this city of starlight you promised me?”

A side of Nyx’s mouth quirked up in a playful smirk, “Follow me.”

---

Nyx held her hand as he led her through that secret hole in the shield, hidden by a hedera bush. He, Leith and Thena had discovered it years ago by accident. They were playing a game of sunball, when suddenly, the ball disappeared. Like it had never been there to begin with. The trio stared at each other in awe; it was one of the only times he’d been truly surprised by magic. Or, he supposed, the lack of it.

That puncture in the shield was how they escaped without their parents, especially his father, finding out. Any other comings and goings in Velaris had to go through the High Lord, but this Mother-blessed rip in the shield served as his only form of freedom. A door, of sorts, leading him to the outside world. To things he would have missed out on completely if he stayed locked up in the city. To fun, to joy, to new friendships and secret lovers.

The past few months with Saria had been a dream come true. She was a beacon of light for him in his darkest days. When things got too tough and confusing at home, he knew he could find her amongst the trees in Spring. Saria had a different spirit than most. She did not pry, did not judge. He would forever be beyond grateful for her and the time they spent together. Nyx had seen so much of her and her own life, he wanted to return the favor. He wanted her to see all of him, starting with the city most sacred to his family, even if it often left him feeling hollow at times.

They made their way through the hedge maze of lilacs and onto the outskirts of the city. Nyx felt Saria pause and he pivoted his head to look back at her. Her eyes widened as she stared in wonder at what lay before her.

Hundreds of tall, winding brick buildings lined the paved street, all lit up brightly with faerie lights. Fae of all different shapes, sizes and colors walked the streets. A lively tune from the Rainbow floated up the hill to them, along with the mouth-watering scents of Rita’s; a family favorite restaurant near the Sidra.

“Welcome to Velaris.” Nyx grinned at Saria, tugging her arm and pulling her into the bustling crowd of the city. Pulling her into his life.

Chapter Text

After a delectable dinner of exquisitely seasoned roasted chicken and grilled vegetables, Nyx flew them up a hill to a small domed building. The sweetness of the pomegranate wine from their meal still danced on Saria’s tongue as she stood in the corridor of the building, taking in her surroundings. The roof was made entirely out of glass, the dark night sky on full display. Stars stared down at her as she slowly spun, her shoes squeaking on the dark marble floor, looking every which way to fully absorb the view. It was incredibly magnificent. The city of starlight, indeed.

“What is this place?” She asked Nyx, who was currently surveying her.

Nyx pushed off the door he was leaning on and walked to some sort of instrument near her that pointed straight up at the sky, “We call it the observatory.” He turned the tool towards him and beckoned her with his other hand. “Come here.”

Saria moved closer to him, her long skirts trailing behind her like liquid amethyst, “What does it do?” She questioned beside him, her fingers lightly grazing his as she traced the glass at the tip of the tool.

“I’ll show you. Put your eye here.” She glanced at him sideways, brows furrowed together. He sighed in faux exasperation, “Just trust me, okay?”

And she did trust him. More than anybody else in the world. It was just…different with him. Whatever it was between them, she did not feel it with anybody else. She trusted the male next to her with her whole life, she was positive of that.

So, Saria brought her face down to the tool. Her long eyelashes fluttered against the glass piece. She felt Nyx adjust the instrument until it pointed directly at the moon. She gasped at what she saw; the dark spots so detailed it felt like she was standing on the moon itself. Nyx moved the instrument again and again, Saria took it all in. Orbs of blinding light and spheres of every color. Planets, she remembered learning about them long ago as a child. All of it so unreal, Saria would believe herself to be looking at paintings if it were not for the scope she was looking through.

Finally, she lifted her head, amazement etched across her face. “What is this thing called?”

“A telescope. My father worked with the Dawn Court to build it. There were rumors of them before the second war, but lots of things were lost during that time.”

“It’s…this is amazing. This telescope and…this city.” Saria looked up at the glass roof, at the sky of shimmering stars. “I did not think the Night Court could be so beautiful. So modern. I love the Spring Court, but this city is different. I like the modernity of it.”

Nyx smiled but adverted his blue eyes from her. He toyed with the corner of a closed, leather-bound journal. His throat bobbed as he said, “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Saria moved closer to him, until she was pressed against his warm body. “Thank you for sharing it with me, Nyx. All of it.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and his soon found their way around her waist. She breathed in his scent of lilac and citrus. She had never felt more at home than when wrapped in his arms. Although she had not uttered the words out loud yet, she knew she loved him. Had known for weeks now, ever since she woke up one morning, her body splayed out across his and the feeling hit her like a wave of unrelenting waters.

As their lips met, and she tasted that sweet pomegranate wine on his mouth, she hoped he would be there with open arms when she finally got swept back out to shore.

---

They spent much longer at the observatory than he had originally planned. But Nyx wasn’t complaining, it was time well spent. Saria protested the flight when he tried to scoop her up, instead opting out for walking the cobblestone pathway, claiming she wanted to take in the city fully.

Nyx’s heart clenched at the idea of her loving the city. His city. He found solace in the Spring Court, and he was happy she shared the same sentiments for his court. Or for this small sliver of it, at least.

They meandered through the Rainbow, the last of the drunk stragglers walking haphazardly home for the night. He did plan to fly her home tonight, but with the moon now at its peak and the storm clouds forming in the sky, he figured she could stay the night with him. After all, there was a vacant house in the city for the taking.

“Are you sure your parents won’t mind?” Saria asked, her heels clacking on the concrete. He realized this was the first time he saw her in shoes. She normally ran barefoot in the grass of Spring, or the sand of Summer.

Nyx shook his head, “They won’t mind, believe me.” More like they would not know. He doubted his mother would care, anyways. But his father was another feat, one he didn’t want to deal with. Especially not in his current state. His headaches made a reappearance, along with visions. Though, they seemed more like horror-induced hallucinations if anybody asked Nyx. He wasn’t sure if they stemmed from his father’s deteriorating health or from Madja’s tonics, but Nyx tried to distance himself as far from the male as he could.

He felt Saria squeeze his hand, and he looked at her. His pulse slowed down as his eyes met hers. “Where did you go?” She asked, brows softly furrowed.

“Nowhere,” He replied quickly. “Just thinking.” He had not told her about his father, he wasn’t sure how to go about it. Truthfully, he did not usually think about other aspects of his life when he was with her. She’d become a bit of a getaway to him, one he could not be happier for.

“About what?”

“About,” Nyx tried to clear his mind, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her in close to him; their chests rising and falling together in unison. “How incredibly lucky I am to have you in my life.”

Saria snorted, a grin spreading across her face. The small freckles splattered across her cheeks crinkled with the movement. He counted them one morning while she slept, her soft snores filling the room. He realized then how much he loved the sound, how it was like music to his ears and how he could listen to it for a lifetime. How he loved her honey blonde hair, those soft brown, quizzical eyes and all twenty-six freckles spread across her face. Nyx loved everything about her. He loved her.

Undeniably so, Nyx was in love with the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. Even beyond that, he loved her very soul. As if it was a part of his own.

“You know,” Saria said, hands rubbing the space between his wings. He shuddered at the feeling. “I often think about that night in Summer. Do you think it was an accident you stumbled on that beach? Or was the Mother feeling generous?”

“Perhaps she needed entertainment for the night. Though,” He began to sway their bodies to some silent music. “I doubt she needed my help for that. You lit up that whole beach with your dancing. I’m sure she saw you from wherever the hell it is that she presides.”

“Please, you give me far too much credit,” Saria moved her body with his, her dress flowing with her. “Plus, the copious amount of wine I drank that day helped a lot.” A wicked grin lit up her face.

“Yeah,” Nyx grimaced. “It took me a good three days to recover. Tarquin must dip some of his own magic into Summer’s wine barrels.”

“You drinking the next day and showing up to my house probably didn’t help the hangover, either,” She mused sarcastically, clicking her tongue. Nyx bellowed out a laugh, the sound echoing through the dark alley they were in.

And as if the Mother found it comical as well, heavy raindrops began pouring from the sky, drenching them both entirely. Nyx’s laughter continued and Saria joined in, the sound golden in the storm.

“I am so thankful for that night and for this one.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I don’t think there are any accidents when it pertains to you. I was always meant to find you on that beach,” He kissed each cheek. “I am almost certain that there has always been some invisible string tying us together. Pulling us closer for this very moment.” Finally, his mouth found hers.

Nyx leaned Saria against the brick wall, her hands interlaced tightly in his now soaked hair, and he gripped the sides of her face. Droplets of rain pelted them relentlessly, but his body only heated as the kiss deepened. Saria wrapped her legs around Nyx’s waist, their tongues dancing a waltz of the highest caliber. Nyx moaned into her mouth as she rubbed her body against his, searching for any friction. They’d kissed and explored each other before, had spent months doing just that. But there was a different kind of charge in this touch, like the electricity between them had been amplified tenfold.

After what felt like an eternity of kissing, they finally broke apart. Nyx leaned his forehead against hers, their heavy pants filling the little space between them. Her rose and honey scent completely enveloped him, the smell like a drug and he was seconds away from giving himself to her completely, right in this alley.

Saria brushed light kisses on his jaw, setting his entire body in flames. She made her way to his pointed ear, drawing idle circles where his shoulder met his neck with the nail of her index finger. Barely above a whisper, she said everything his heart had been feeling for so many weeks now: “I love you.”

Bright light flashed across his vision, followed by a loud boom of thunder. Nyx swept Saria up and ran to the town house.

---

Saria’s giggling trailed them as Nyx flew through the quiet, empty street. Well, ran, technically—but the speed he was going felt like flying.

The rain continued to pour down on them, Saria’s hair completely plastered to her head. Clover would freak if she saw her now, but the thought only added on to the glee of it all.

Nyx stopped in front of a brown door to a tall building. The street they were on was lined with lots of towering brick buildings. She had never seen anything like it before, the homes in Spring and Summer were spaced far apart, giving the residents plenty of land to do as they please. However, something about the buildings’ closeness was a bit comforting to her. She would like to live in a town like this, where Clover or Cresseida would only be a knock away. Or Nyx.

He held onto her tightly with one arm as he unlocked the door with his other. The wood swung open, revealing a dark room. Nyx’s lips found hers again, and he smiled against her mouth before placing her down in the foyer. The soaked fabric of her dress sloshed on the wooden floorboards, making a nasty, wet smacking sound. She cringed, but Nyx didn’t seem bothered by it, not with his own dripping clothes and rain-filled shoes.

No, in fact, he interlocked his large fingers with her smaller ones and pulled her through the archway. The house was quiet and quaint; but lived in, if the various scents and objects strewn about were any indicators. Nothing like her home, which was vast and spotless, with herself being her only company most nights. That is, until Nyx showed up. She found herself liking the cozy feeling of this home.

However, Saria felt Nyx tense next to her. His grip on her hand tightened and he pushed her behind him, her face met the wet fabric of his black shirt.

“Nyx.” A male’s voice flitted through the darkness. Although he’d spoken only one word, the sound was deep and commanding.

Chapter Text

“Father.” Nyx willed his voice to steady, his heart bound to beat out of his chest. “What are you doing here?” In his father’s current state, the male should not have been out of bed, much less out of the river house. His presence at the town house perplexed the hell out of Nyx.

“I can ask you the same question, boy.”

His father’s back was turned to him, the male at the drink cart. Nyx could now hear the metal of the spoon clinking against the cup as he stirred the liquid.

“I was out,” Nyx said, swallowing hard. “With a friend. The storm made us seek shelter.”

The stirring stopped abruptly. His father slightly turned his head over his black robe-clad shoulder. An eye of deep, dark violet peered at Nyx, “A friend?”

Nyx took in his father’s whole body, the male’s bare legs peeked out from where the robe ended mid-calf. A slipper of grey and one of black covered his feet.

Nyx nodded tightly but did not move to display Saria to the male. He knew he should not be afraid of introducing his father to her, but his gut wrenched looking at the state the male was currently in. It all felt immensely wrong. Nyx bristled when Saria placed a small touch on his back.

His father angled his head, a feline smirk playing on his lips. Nyx heard him breathe in deeply, watched his nostrils flare. His father’s purple eyes darkened, almost turning completely black in the shadows of the unlit room. The male’s smirk dropped, a snarl taking its place. “You reek of Spring.”

---

Saria had no idea what was happening. She had heard and read about the High Lord of the Night Court, but she expected the male to be nicer, given how nice his son was. Perhaps the horrible rumors were true, after all.

Nyx seemed scared of the male; she could feel his body slightly trembling as he spoke to his father. She’d placed a hand on his back, the touch meant to be reassuring. However, it did not seem to ease Nyx any.

“She’s from the Spring Court,” Nyx gritted out. Rhysand chuckled darkly.

His father sounded disgusted about her being from Spring, and Saria’s cheeks flushed red against her better judgement. She had never been embarrassed of her home before now. Saria stared down at the floor, at the tips of her ridiculous white shoes peeking out from under her dress.

“Well, don’t be rude. Introduce us.”

Nyx did not respond, which seemed to piss his father off further. “Now.” Rhysand’s voice exploded throughout the small room. The various framed paintings shook, nearly falling off the wall.

Nyx’s flinching woke something up inside of Saria, a feeling so deeply buried she had never felt it before now. Ice filled her veins, and she did not think twice before stepping out from behind his back and taking stance at his side, her head held high.

The male, the High Lord of the Night Court, before her was almost a spitting image of Nyx, just an older version. The only real distinction between the two was Rhysand’s glowing, violet eyes. Which were now examining her from head to toe, his gaze seemed to linger on her dress. His stare felt like worms were crawling across her skin, Saria shivered from the feeling. His nostrils flared, purple eyes narrowing as they met hers. Nyx placed a hand on the small of Saria’s back.

“Father, this is—”

“I know who she is.”

And then a searing pain etched its way across Saria’s brow, like sharp talons were trying to claw their way into her brain. Saria hunched over, the bodice of her dress painfully constricting her ribs as she gasped for breath. Just when she thought the stone walls of her mind were bound to crumble down, the claws retreated. She sat on her knees, body shaking. She vaguely felt Nyx’s hands on her shoulders, the male trying to support her up.

“It seems your father has taught you well. Though, not well enough if you thought coming here was a good idea.” Rhysand clicked his tongue. Saria’s stomach turned at the menacing tone.

“What the hell did you do?” Nyx demanded from his father.

“Get her out. Take her home, drop her off in the woods, I don’t care. But get her out of my city.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m being a hell of a lot more generous than her father’s been,” Rhys chuckled darkly. “Did he tell you? What he did to my mate? To Nyx’s mother? What he did to my mother and sister?”

Saria didn’t reply. Could not find it in herself to reply, not with her head aching like he left invisible gashes in her mind amidst his departure. She heard the wind rustle, and then felt Rhysand’s presence in front of her. His scent so much like Nyx’s but…different. Wrong. So very wrong. “Answer me,” He commanded, his voice like thunder in the room.

Saria stared down at her clenched fists, she gripped the lilac fabric of her skirt tightly to keep her hands from shaking. She had no idea what he was referring to. Quite frankly, she could barely comprehend his questions from the throbbing in her head. A damp tendril of hair fell across her face as she lightly shook her head; one of the carefully placed pearls fell from her now undone braid and rolled, halting at Rhysand’s feet. The movement was meek, the word ‘coward’ raced through her head. She was nothing more than a weakling, kneeling at the feet of this male.

So, through the roaring pain in her head, Saria willed herself to look up; to at least meet the male’s eyes as he demeaned her. She immediately regretted the decision when she saw the darkness ebbing its way off him. Like night’s darkest, starless skies. Her bones chilled at the sight, her own power balking at the black void forming around Rhysand.

“Leave her alone, father,” Nyx growled, maneuvering his long body until he stood between Saria and the High Lord. His stance defensive, similar to the ones she’d seen in training rings.

Rhysand angled his head at his son, the movement much like a predator eyeing up its prey. His eyes twinkled as he surveyed Nyx. “I’ve been waiting for you to challenge me, boy. Though, it is a bit typical for it to be over a female. Let’s hope you don’t embarrass yourself.” The High Lord gave his son a feline grin, his too white teeth shining bright in the darkness.

Nyx shook his head. “You’re not well, father. I do not wish to fight you. Let me bring her home and then we will find Madja and talk.”

Rhysand’s power flared; shadows of pure terror took out windows. Saria covered her head as glass shattered throughout the room. She smelt the coppery tang of blood. “Do not speak of that traitor’s name,” The male roared.

Saria watched in confusion as Nyx put his hands up, a declaration of innocence. Blood dripped down his forearm, saturating the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt. “Talk to me, father. Enlighten me. Whatever is wrong, we will figure it out. Please,” Nyx pleaded with the High Lord

Rhysand scoffed, “Nothing is wrong with me, boy. I am what I was meant to be. It’s people like you, like Madja,” He spat the name out like it was poison on his tongue. “Who believe me to be unwell. I am more powerful today than I have ever been. What sickness makes someone stronger? How about you enlighten me on that, son.”

Saria stared at the male, at the power roaring through him. She finally took in his undone robe, his bare chest, and undershorts on full display. At the two different slippers on his feet. The male was not making any sense, and maybe it was because he was truly mad. He could and would kill them, she realized. A male with a twisted mind could switch in an instant. If he grew tired of words, he would not hesitate to strike. She had to get them out of here.

Nyx stumbled on his words, “Y—You’re right. The Mother would not grant you these powers just to make your brain sick. The headaches must have been a sign of some sorts. We should find mother and tell her.” His cadence was much too high to be convincing, she knew that and Nyx's slight flinching indicated he knew too.

Saria reached out until her fingertips lightly touched the back of Nyx’s thigh. She closed her eyes and tried to focus. She took a deep breath, trying desperately to block out the outside world. She willed the small amount of power she had at the bottom of that well to come to the top. To course through her veins, to materialize into something useful. Winnowing was not a guarantee for every fae, and usually didn’t show up until after one’s Ordeal, but it sure as hell would come in handy right now.

Saria’s blood warmed as that golden light rushed through her. Get out. Get out. Get out. She repeated the words over and over in her mind. She envisioned the lush forest, the tall trees, and fields of wildflowers. The large empty manor. Her father’s smiling face. Her mother’s room of potions. Clover braiding her hair as they gossiped about nothing and everything.

Home. Home. Home.

When that didn’t work, she thought about the cascading blue waves of the Summer Court. The warm sand of the beach between her toes. The blaring and bright sun on her back. Of Tarquin’s sarcastic remarks and Cresseida’s infectious laugh.

A dark surge of energy followed by Nyx’s body being ripped from her grasp brought her back to reality. Unfortunately, they were still in the town house. And Rhysand was pinning Nyx to the ground with black constraints of that horrible magic. Saria had missed the breaking point that led to Rhysand’s outburst, but it didn’t matter. Rhysand was going to kill Nyx. Her chest tightened at the thought.

Saria did not think as she rose to her feet. Her pulse seemed to slow to a miniscule rate, that golden magic coursing through her veins like rays of light, consuming her whole. It was more power than she had ever felt. Much more than she knew she had, really. Her eyes honed in on her target, his back turned towards her as he whispered something down to Nyx. She could not hear it, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered, not if Nyx was in danger. Therefore, she struck. Quick and precise, just like her father taught her in their dagger lessons.

---

Nyx watched in frightened surprise from the floor as asps of light wrapped their way around his father’s body, constricting his body tight. Saria glowed brightly from behind his father, like the sun come to life. Her hair and dress of now vibrant golden rays billowed in invisible wind. Saria sharply angled her head to the left, and the High Lord was ripped off Nyx. The shadows on Rhysand’s body skittered away, as if they feared the light coming from the female. With the shadows retreating, Nyx’s own bounds were undone.

Nyx managed to make it to his feet, knees wobbling in horror at the sight before him. A bright rope had slithered its way to his father’s neck, wrapping tightly around it. Rhysand clawed at it futilely, his eyes wide as dinner plates; face turning a sickening shade of purple. Nyx’s pulse hammered in his ears, and true fear filled his veins then.

“That’s enough, Saria,” Nyx managed to get out through the pounding in his chest, voice barely above a whisper. But Saria did not let up. Instead, the rope around his father’s neck seemed to tighten. He turned towards her and realized the female he had grown to love was not present at all. The glowing, golden eyes and light rippling from her body in pure flames were a testament of the magic now consuming her wholly.

“Saria!” Nyx yelled, but still, the female did not relinquish the bonds on the High Lord. Nyx ran to his father, pulling tightly at that rope around his neck. Nyx met his father’s purple stare, that dark craze from earlier now gone. Instead, terror filled his eyes. His father placed a hand on the side of Nyx’s face, the touch tender and soft, even amidst the chaos. He had stopped fighting for relief, and instead laid there motionless. One last guttural sound escaped the male’s lips before his hand fell. Nyx gripped at the rope, attempting to loosen it. “Saria, stop it!” He pleaded with the female. The power sizzled, drawing small burns on his own hands. Nyx hissed in pain and the tightness of the rope relaxed a bit.

Nyx felt his mother before he saw her. Her power had always called out to him, due to some motherly bond. Nyx turned towards the door just in time to see unrelenting, spinning winds of water strike Saria. The female crumpled to the floor from the force, the golden snakes retreating. His mother stepped over her, running to his dying father. Her mate. There was no doubt in Nyx’s mind that that primal instinct took over, wherever she was, and called her to this very spot. Fae could feel it in their heart when their mates were in dire danger.

Nyx stared down at his father, the male’s eyes had closed, and he was not moving. Nyx pressed an ear down to his chest. Just faintly, he heard it. A faint beating. The tightness in Nyx’s chest unwound slightly.

His mother pushed him out of the way, kneeling over her mate in her black leggings and oversized sweater. His father’s sweater, Nyx realized. His mother frantically examined the male’s body, spools of her own golden light emanating from her hands. She was using her drop of magic from the Day Court to heal him. The power so similar and yet so different to the one that came from Saria.

Nyx looked back at the female on the floor. She laid unconscious on her side, her arms splayed about. But her chest rose and fell in healthy breaths.

“Get her out of here, Lucien,” Nyx’s mother breathed, silent tears falling from her cheeks as she willed that power to heal her mate.

Nyx had been too caught up in everything to notice the red-haired male standing in the archway. His face a ghastly pale, shining in horror. Lucien nodded silently, walking to Saria. Nyx almost objected as the male scooped her up but his father’s gasps of air below him stole his attention. His mother wept into his father’s chest as Lucien winnowed Saria away.

---

Saria was barely conscious when they arrived at the Spring manor. She almost believed herself to be dreaming as she clung on tight to Lucien; his scent of crackling logs and spiced apples conjured up from some of her earliest memories of this dreamscape, as she had not seen the male since she was a small child.

Just when she accepted this strange dream for what it was, she heard her father’s voice. The male’s frantic worrying, her mother’s soft reassurance, Lucien’s calm explaining.

“What happened?” Her father demanded.

“I’m not entirely sure. I was meeting with Rhysand and Feyre when Rhys randomly winnowed away. By the time we found him, things had gotten…out of hand.”

“Why was Saria there?”

“I cannot tell you that, as I don’t know for sure. But I presume she will tell you, in time,” A pause, and then, “Tamlin, Rhys is—"

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. But something is very wrong. His mind isn’t right. Feyre says he sees things, hears them. Shadows speaking to him. Scary things. It would probably be best if Saria did not return to the Night Court, for her own safety.”

There was a moment of silence, and Saria felt herself drifting further away with it. She was so tired, her body more exhausted than it had ever been, even after hours and hours of grueling training. That well of power now bone dry. In mere seconds, Saria was taken under the waters of pure oblivion.

Saria awoke in her bed, her body aching, and head pounding. She wasn’t sure how long she was asleep for, but it was not long enough. Her mother sat beside her, combing her fingers through Saria’s hair. The faint orange light of the sunrise through her open curtains told her morning was approaching.

And like a wave crashing down on her, Saria remembered the previous night. How amazing her date with Nyx had been, until his father showed up. She could still feel his razor-sharp talons scratching down the side of her temples, forcibly trying to gain access into her mind. How her own power and rage had consumed her, and how she would have killed the High Lord if she had not been stopped.

Bile rose in her throat and Saria leaned over the edge of her bed, vomit spilling from her mouth. When she was finished hurling her guts up, her mother silently handed her a warm cup of chamomile tea and laid under the warm blankets with her.

Saria sobbed into her mother’s lap as she rubbed her back, softly singing an old lullaby from her childhood.

Saria drifted off to sleep as the song told the ancient story of a forbidden love between the sun and the moon, and how hard the earth fought to keep them apart.

Chapter Text

The Daughter of Spring sat in the desk chair facing the window, her bruised knees drawn tightly to her chest. It was mid-afternoon, hours and days had slowly ticked by since that dreadful night in Velaris. With every minute gone, Saria felt another piece of herself crumble with it.

She had not fully recovered from that night; her body was taking much longer than it should to repair. The delay was probably because her power had not replenished yet. For some reason, that well in her remained dry, and exhaustion consumed her. No amount of rest seemed to help her, either.

Well, it wasn’t like she was getting much sleep, anyways. Nightmares plagued her most nights, like some disgusting parasite had taken her body hostage for its own bidding. Darkness crept in her mind in heavy shadows.

She heard the bedroom door open, and then smelt Spring’s first rain. Saria did not turn to greet her father. Instead, she stared at the starling on her windowsill. The bird tilted its head as its beady black eye peered into her empty gaze.

“You are not eating,” he said. It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement. Saria’s stomach turned at the thought of food. Nausea plagued her as well these days. She heard the old armchair near her bed groan as he sat in it. His words hung heavy in the silence until he spoke again.

“I did not know this dress still existed.” Saria knew he was talking about the purple dress she’d worn to Velaris. It lay askew on her floor—torn and stained—and somehow evading her mother’s tidy spell. Saria did not have the strength to get rid of it. Instead, she just opted to quickly averting her gaze whenever her tired eyes landed on the lilac fabric. The wretched thing weighed in the room like a curse from Hell itself.

Again, she did not reply. Could not find it in herself to conjure up words and speak them into existence. To make idle chatter when it felt like she was missing a piece of her soul. She stared blankly as the starling flapped its dark blue wings and took flight in the wind. She wished to be the bird. A bird. Any bird or animal or insect with wings who had the freedom of flight. Most importantly, she wished to fly far, far away from Prythian.

As if the silence itself was beckoning him to speak, her father continued, “It’s damn near four hundred years old now. You wouldn’t know this, but it belonged to Rhysand’s sister. We were…” his voice trailed off, and Saria heard him sigh. She blinked once at the now empty sky, his words waking her from some dark trance.

She angled her head until she was looking at him sidelong. He held the purple fabric in his hands, his head bowed low over it, as if the very thing brought up long forgotten emotions that weighed heavily on him now.

“Did you kill her?” Saria’s voice sounded foreign even to her own ears, the words croaking out of her dry throat like some distressed spirit. The accusation was preposterous, but she found herself not caring. Plus, anything seemed to be possible nowadays.

Her father raised his head, eyes wide with surprise. The emerald green lined in silver with years of pent-up tears threatening to spill over.  He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, and shook his head slowly. Strands of blonde hair fell across his forehead and over his eyes, but he did not take his hands from the dress to push the curls back.

“I tried to save her. I tried. My father, your grandfather, was not a kind male. Somehow, he found out about Nova and me. It wasn’t supposed to get that far. She and I were just friends, but…” He smiled sadly, like the memory this conversation brought up was both sweet and heartbreakingly devastating to him. “I loved her, and my father hated her. Hated everything about the Night Court. Especially the High Lord and his family. But the real detriment to it all was that he hated me. He would do anything to hold any sort of power over my head, and I was stupid enough to show the happiness Nova brought me on my face around him and my brothers. I was naïve then.

“I was not a stranger to his beatings. To his lashings. It started when I showed the first sign of magic at ten years old, I thought it was just some silly little light tricks. But he feared me rising to power, of stealing the High Lord title from him, even though it cannot be stolen. You cannot steal power that the Mother does not wish you to have. He beat me so badly my mother had to summon a medwitch from the Dawn Court to heal me when he, mercifully, left for a hunting trip shortly after. Even then, it took two weeks until I could walk again.”

Saria’s throat tightened, and her chest clenched at his words. She knew her grandfather was not a good male, but her father did not go further than that with the details. At ten, she was running amuck in the manor with magic-grown strands of pink in her hair, proudly showcasing it to any passerby and declaring herself queen of the castle. She could not imagine being beaten for it.

Voice heavy with sadness, her father continued, “That was my second worst beating from him. The first was the night he set his mind on Nova. My brothers tied me to a post in the cellar so he could deal out the lashings easier. They forced me to drink a faebane tonic so I could not use my powers against him. So I could not heal fast. It was meant to break me, meant for me to give out her location. But I did not break. I did not enlighten him of her whereabouts. The bastard forced me to count each one. I did, and I passed out on number one hundred and thirteen.” He blew out a small, shaky breath, as if remembering the pain of that last lash.

“When I awoke, my father introduced me to his friend. A male from some far away land, who specialized in interrogation, they said. He easily slid into my mind and found the information they needed. It did not matter. The fighting, the resilience to the lashings, the love I held for her; it did not matter. Not in the end. They were always going to find out. The fate I had been dealt—that she had been dealt—it would have always ended the way it did. I know that now.”

A single tear trailed down Saria’s face, warm against her cold cheek. She quickly wiped it away and asked, “You didn’t try to stop it?”

“The male, this mind terrorizer, commanded me to sleep. He filled my head with horrible nightmares that I don’t care to repeat now. But when I awoke on the blood-stained floor hours later, my back still in shreds, and a heaviness in my chest, I knew that I was living the real nightmare. I quickly rode to the village Nova and her mother were staying at, but my father and brothers had already burned it to the ground. Had already taken the two ladies of Night. I was too late. I did not know it at the time, but their heads were already on the way to Rhysand. He and his father retaliated a day later, understandably so.” He sucked in a deep breath before continuing, “I just wish they spared my mother in the crossfire. I know the irony is apparent there, since my father did not spare Rhysand’s. But, still, I held a lot of resentment for centuries towards Rhysand for what they did to my mother.”

Saria let out a shaky breath. “Why are you telling me this?”

Her father shrugged; his fingers lightly stroking the thin material of the dress. Not her dress, but Nova’s. Rhysand’s sister and Nyx’s aunt. Saria’s skin prickled at the thought of wearing it now, her stomach twisting with nausea.

“Truthfully, I never planned on telling you about my past. I did not deem it important enough to repeat. It’s sad, and maybe even worse, it shows how much of a failure I have been. I was ashamed and I felt weak because I allowed it to happen. I should have been there to protect Nova. I should have killed my father. I should have never fell in love with a female from the Night Court to begin with. Those early months as High Lord, I tried to erase Nova from my memory. The guilt and shame consumed me entirely and so I got rid of her belongings, or at least I thought I did.” A beat of silence as he stared down sadly at the dress and then he met her gaze before continuing, “But I’ve come to realize that there are plenty of ways things can go, and they are all inevitable. The Mother will do as she deems fit. There will be plenty of hardships, but eventually, there will be something good. I could not save Nova, but I saved your mother, all those years ago. Perhaps that is what the Mother intended all along.”

Saria took it all in and her mind whirred, but one thing stood out in her brain. Something the High Lord of the Night Court had said. “Rhysand said you harmed Nyx’s mother. Is that also true?”

“Yes,” he said, shoulders sagging even lower, but he did not look away from Saria’s stare. Did not balk from the shame the question brought him. “I loved Feyre. Too much. A lot happened to us when we were under the mountain, and I feared she would get hurt like Nova did and I locked her up. I regret it, every gods damned day of my life. I did not know how to love in a healthy way, not until your mother. I had to fix a lot in my own head before she would allow me to love her. And for that, I am grateful. Yes, we’re mates, and our bond helped, but it still took a lot of self-reflection for me to love and be loved. Things did not look up for a while, and I stopped trying to live. Stopped being present, and my court fell because of it. Thankfully, Tarquin and Kallias helped me out tremendously, even though I was the one responsible for doing the work in the end.”

Saria turned her gaze back to the window, to the rustling colorful leaves of the weeping willow. “And what about me?” she asked.

“What about you?” Confusion laid heavily in the male’s voice.

“Will you lock me up, too?”

Her father did not reply for a while, and Saria almost believed him to have winnowed away until finally, he said, “There will always be a piece of me that will want to size you down and keep you safe in my shirt pocket. Near my heart and far away from danger. But I have learned that too much love is a poison. I believe you can take care of yourself, though I wish you did not have to. I wish I could do it all for you, but that would not be an exciting life for you. I will always be here for you, little dove, but only you can make your own choices.”

Saria’s gaze went blurry as she watched a yellow butterfly float across the windowpane. She tried to focus on the wings, blinking fast to keep the tears from spilling over. She was so damn tired of crying.

“Perhaps it makes me a bad father to tell you this, but I have it on good authority that the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court are currently vacationing in the Dawn Court. And that they left their eldest child at home in Velaris,” her father said, the heaviness in his voice from earlier had dissipated a bit.

Saria slowly turned her head back to him, her gaze wide and mouth agape. “You knew?” She did not tell her parents about her secret romance with Nyx, and assumed their knowledge did not go beyond what was relayed to them by Lucien—that of whom did not know much about their relationship at all.

“I am not stupid, Saria. You’ve had a glow to you that could only come from a state of love. It took me longer than I care to admit piecing it together, but I eventually figured it out,” he said, grin spreading wide across his face. “Don’t tell your mother I’m taking full credit for it, though.”

Saria let out a small laugh, those tears finally falling freely. All this time and they knew. She didn’t know why she felt the need to hide Nyx in the first place, but a heaviness seemed to ease from her shoulders at her father’s words.

Her father stood, neatly placing the dress on the chair and walked to her. “All I ask, before making your decision, is that you eat. Have dinner with your mother and I. Take a healing tonic.” He placed his broad hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “A wounded bird cannot fly, my love.”

Saria remained in her chair long after her father’s departure, his words replaying over and over in her head. His revelations were a lot to take in and she wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it all. But she knew one thing to be true.

She loved Nyx and she would not take this opportunity in vain. She will go back to Velaris for him, even if, by some chance, she did not walk away from it alive.

Chapter Text

Nyx tossed his crown into the air, the sunlight brightly reflecting from each individual silver star, making them look alive across the simple black band.  

The thing had lived on his desk, amongst his messy papers, books and other paraphernalia since that dreadful night in the Hewn City. Usually, his mother would have taken it back from him by now, to pick it up for “safekeeping” but with the chaos of everything, she seemed to have forgotten about it.

With his father, mother, and sister away at the Dawn Court to seek out new forms of treatment for his father, Nyx was expected to be the face of their court. Amren would make all of the big decisions, of course, but if needed, Nyx would stand in for his parents and address their people. He doubted anything big would come up while they were away, but he was basically locked up in Velaris until their return. Not that he had anywhere else to go, not after everything he’d learned in the past week. 

After that night in the town house, Nyx sat with his mother until sunrise while a new healer nursed his father back to health. Nyx did not dare ask about Madja, but he did watch this one more closely. His father was deranged, yes, but it did not hurt to keep an eye on the people who knew about the weakened state of the High Lord. Nyx would not put it past some of the fae who live in a constant state of unrest in the Night Court to use this moment to strike. 

It was Nyx’s mother who spoke first, hours into the night, and drawing him from his depthless thoughts. Her voice was so quiet, Nyx almost wrote it off as a product of his sleep deprived brain, until she spoke his name. 

Nyx whipped his head to her, brows furrowed. He took in her tired blue eyes—the eyes they shared, her hunched shoulders and deep frown. “What?” 

His mother looked back at his father, chuckling softly. “I think you could be a thousand years old and still swear you didn’t hear me the first time.” She shook her head amusingly, escaped tendrils of brown hair from her loose braid swaying with the movement. “I asked you if you love her. The girl from the town house.” 

Nyx did not know what to say. He loved Saria, yes, but after what happened tonight…how things ended, the state it put his parents in, especially his mother…

He envisioned a hundred different ways of introducing his mother to Saria, and not one of them could ever prepare him for the horror that actually ensued. 

“Your silence speaks volumes, son,” she said, in an all-knowing tone. She was only twenty-three years older than him—a number so minuscule to the high fae—but she always knew how to read him. 

Nyx rolled his eyes at her, trying to fight the heat now rising to his cheeks. “Do you really think this is a good time to be speaking about my love life?” he whispered, nodding towards his father who still lay unconscious on the bed. 

She faced him again, her eyes wide. “We could have avoided this entirely if you spoke to me before bringing her here. If you did not feel the need to hide her from me.” Not from them, but from her. Apparently, he’d struck a nerve by not confiding in her over Saria. 

“I was not hiding her from you, mother. I just simply did not tell you.” Nyx shrugged his shoulders. “And quite frankly, it wasn’t exactly a top priority, not with him being sick and everything else going to shit.” He gestured to the male on the bed. 

She stood from her chair and walked the small distance to the water basin. She grabbed a rag and dunked it into the water. “You’re making excuses, Nyx.”

Nyx huffed out a breath. His mother was always a busy body, so truly, he should have known better than to keep this from her. “Would you like me to tell you about her? Would that make up for it?”

“It would be a good start,” she mumbled under her breath, wringing the rag out. Nyx watched as she made her way back to the bedside and leaned over to place the damp cloth on his father’s forehead.

“Well, she…she’s amazing. Her name is Saria, I’ve known her for a couple of months now…” His voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure why he was coming up short with words. She’d always been his favorite secret, and perhaps a part of him wished she still was some hidden part of his life. It’d make things a hell of a lot less complicated.

His mother hummed in acknowledgement, her hand lightly rubbing his father’s face with the damp cloth. “And how did you two meet?”

“At a party.” Nyx fought hard to keep the corners of his mouth from lifting. His mother had always quietly encouraged him to bend the rules, so he wasn’t scared to reveal the truth to her. Now his father, that would be a different story. “In Summer.”

She paused, the rag hanging limply from her hand. “How did you even manage to get out unseen?”

“A magician never reveals his tricks,” he said, winking at her. She rolled her eyes in response, but her eyes crinkled as a grin spread across her face.

Nyx stared down at the floor before continuing, “I saw her dancing on the beach, and I couldn’t look away. Physically could not, it was like I was under some spell. It was just me and her and she pulled me in, and I haven’t looked back since.”

“Do you think she could be your mate?” Nyx shot his eyes up to his mother, the question taking him aback. She smiled at him softly, before pushing his father’s hair back.

“I—I don’t know,” Nyx fumbled. Surely, he would know by now if she was his mate. The bond would have snapped into place, wouldn’t it?

Nyx stared at his father, the male unconscious and pale. A red line surrounded his throat, a lasting gift from Saria’s magic. If his mate was her, how would it ever work with his father and his… illness? Would her life always be in danger? Unrest settled in his bones at the thought.

He looked down at his hands in his lap, that same red sprawled across his palms in two thin lines. He was unsure if he would be able to save either one, if it came down to it again. A weight set in his stomach at the revelation.  

“You’ll know,” his mother said, making her way back to the vacant seat and sitting. “Eventually.”

“And if she is? What do I do?”

“Well, if you truly do love her, and she you, then you’ll both accept the bond,” she responded.

“But father…he tried to kill her. How can we be together after that?”

His mother grabbed his right hand, encasing it between both of hers. She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “I think him seeing her, smelling her, triggered something in his brain. His…sickness has him reliving the past.”

“Smelling her? What does that even mean?” Nyx asked, brows furrowed.

“She smells just like her father, Nyx. She smells like Spring.”

He thought about his father’s words from earlier, at the accusations he threw at Saria. “What, exactly, did Tamlin do?”

His mother sighed and squeezed his hand. “Their history goes way back, hundreds of years before I was even born. I’m not entirely sure what happened since your father doesn’t like to speak about it, but Tamlin’s the reason your grandmother and aunt were murdered. Tamlin’s father and brothers, they…” Her voice shook. “They sent their heads to your father in a box.”

Nyx’s stomach turned. How could someone do something like that? He thought about his own mother and sister. If somebody did that to them…

Fucking monsters.

“Your father and grandfather retaliated, of course. They killed Tamlin’s family. He only survived because the High Lord powers went to him, and he was able to kill your grandfather. Both Spring and Night welcomed new lords before the sun even rose.”

Nyx couldn’t imagine the massacre that ensued that night. Didn’t want to imagine it. He swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat stayed in place. “He…he said Tamlin hurt you, too.”

His mother sucked her teeth. “I don’t care to go into details now, but yes. I think I will always hold a bit of resentment towards him, but I have had time to grow with what he did to me.” She paused for a moment, contemplating her next words. Finally, she continued. “But I do not hold any resentment towards his daughter, even after everything that happened tonight.”

Nyx nodded once but did not speak. He had a lot to think about.

His mother squeezed his hand once more before letting go of them. “It’s late, my darling,” she said softly.

He took in her tired eyes, and his heart clenched at the sight. Her mate had almost died tonight, and he was the cause for it.

“Go to bed,” he said. “Try to get some rest, I’ll stay with him.”

She stared at him for a moment, but ultimately nodded and leaned in to kiss his forehead before getting up. “Everything will work out as it needs to, Nyx.”

Nyx sat in silence for hours, contemplating everything he’d learned that night. Saria wasn’t like her father. She wasn’t like Tamlin. She was better, she was good and pure.

He truly felt it to be true, but as he watched his father’s chest rise and fall, and that dark red line across his throat slowly heal, he began to question everything he knew.

The questions plagued him nonstop in the days to follow. The fight and conversation with his mother replayed in his mind over and over again. And he couldn’t help but feel like he was being split in two.

One side loyal to his family, and the other loyal to the daughter of the male who was responsible for so much of his family’s turmoil.

A knock sounded at his bedroom door as the cool metal of the crown bit Nyx’s palms; his thin, pale scars burning with the touch.

Nyx quickly surveyed it further, the stars so delicately and intricately carved that they looked like they were plucked straight from the night sky itself. The Crown of Stars was an heirloom to the Night Court, his mother and father each had a crown to match, though theirs were a bit more elaborate.

However, the simplicity of Nyx’s crown did not stop it from weighing heavily on the young male’s head.

Or on his heart.