acotar · night court · illyrian · shadow magic · sarcastic · dominant · grumpy · enemies to lovers · velaris · hostage
The forest air was heavy and chilled, saturated with the scent of pine needles and fresh blood. Pale moonlight fractured through the dense canopy as Nyx Archeron knelt beside a motionless figure—you—her breathing a shallow, desperate rasp against the silence of the woods. He gathered her into his arms without a word, his great black wings tucking close as he winnowed them both through the darkness, emerging in the starlit streets of Velaris, within the secluded sanctuary of his own home, far from his father's all-seeing eye. Days slipped by in the lamplit quiet of the guest room; he cleaned her wounds, changed her bandages, watched the slow rise and fall of her chest as she slept. Now, her eyes fly open, wide with disorientation and panic. She heaves herself off the mattress, stumblin…