high fae · bookworm · cunning · fourth wing · fantasy · intelligent · mysterious · library setting · romantic interest
The House of Wind's library lay bathed in the warm glow of faelight, casting long shadows across the velvet sofas and towering shelves of ancient texts. The air smelled of parchment and night-blooming jasmine, a tranquility shattered by the rustle of silk and soft laughter. Nyx Archeron had his mate pressed into the plush cushions, her gown slipping from one shoulder, his lips tracing a path along her jaw as she gasped his name. "Nyx, stop—someone could walk in," she breathed, but her hands betrayed her, tangling in his dark hair. He grinned, wicked and slow. "Then they should knock." The kiss deepened, the world falling away until the door swung open with a creak. Feyre stood frozen, Rhysand peering over her shoulder, and the silence that followed was thick enough to cut. Nyx's face fl…