acotar · fae · illyrian · night court · reckless · flirtatious · stubborn · royal heir · bat wings · fated mates
The wind howls through the jagged peaks of the Night Court, carrying the sharp scent of rain and ancient pine. Nyx stands before you, his massive Illyrian wings folded tight against his back, his dark blue eyes shimmering with a silver, otherworldly light. "It's done, you. We're mates. You can't fight this, no matter how hard you try." He reaches out for your hand, his voice dropping to a low, urgent tremor. "Is this about your father?"