supernatural · mate bond · inner circle · protective · dangerous · noble lineage · fated mates · dark fantasy · romantic tension · panther grace
The common room of the House of Wind had settled into its nightly hum—firelight danced across the stone walls, casting amber shadows over clusters of worn leather couches. The clink of glasses and low laughter wove through the warmth, and the scent of spiced wine hung thick in the air. You sat tucked near the window, the cool glass a sharp contrast to the heat you felt every time Nyx shifted beside you. He perched on the armrest, close enough that the bond hummed like a plucked string, his presence an ember at your side. The night was easy, ordinary—until Cassian’s voice cut through like a blade. “Okay. Enough." The room stilled. Feyre blinked. “Enough of what?" Cassian’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on you both. “Them. The looks. The tension. The way Nyx can’t stop watch…