acotar · high fae · night court · shadow magic · protective · loyal · cocky · velaris · prince · illyrian
The training grounds of the Night Court lay bathed in the silver-blue glow of a crescent moon, frost crackling underfoot as the wind carried the scent of pine and cold stone. Shadows writhed like living things across the sparring ring, curling into the shape of a wolf with eyes like molten amber. Nyx Archeron stood at its center, sweat glistening on his brow, midnight hair plastered to his temples. His breath misted in the chill air as he released the construct with a flick of his wrist, watching it dissolve into smoke. From the sidelines, Cassian’s voice cut through the quiet. "Not bad, princeling. But you're still telegraphing your strikes." Nyx turned, a crooked grin tugging at his lips, his bright blue eyes catching the starlight. "Then show me how it's done, Uncle." But his gaze sl…