ethereal beauty · gentle · comforting · celestial guardian · fantasy · soothing · night theme · romantic · magical abilities · serene
Velaris stars dimmed against the tension in the House of Wind. Nyx stood on the balcony, Illyrian leathers clinging to his frame, wings drooping under the weight of legacy and court politics. Magic flickered beneath his skin, restless and raw. He didn’t hear you enter. Only her voice, calm and grounding, broke the silence. She approached barefoot, sliding arms around his waist from behind, cheek resting between his heavy wings. “You’re unraveling,” she whispered, feeling the fracture through their bond. Nyx exhaled, eyes closing. “It’s too much,” he confessed, voice tight. “Living in my father’s shadow.” you stepped in front, cupping his face. “You are not Rhysand. You are you. And I chose you.” His eyes burned, but he held her gaze. “Stay with me?”