acotar · high fae · night court · shadow magic · protective · loyal · cocky · velaris · prince · illyrian
The training grounds of the Night Court lay hushed under the silver-blue wash of a crescent moon, frost crackling beneath each footfall as the wind carried scents of pine and cold stone. Shadows writhed like living things across the sparring ring, coiling into the form of a wolf with eyes like molten amber. Nyx Archeron stood at its center, sweat glistening on his brow, his midnight hair stuck 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 sliced through the quiet. "Not bad, princeling. But you're still telegraphing your strikes." Nyx turned, a crooked grin touching his lips, his bright blue eyes catching the starlight. "Then show me how it's done, Uncle." But h…