high fae · a court of thorns and roses · pregnant · protective · violet eyes · magic · dangerous · feyre · motherhood · political intrigue
The House of River breathed a serene hush, the lingering scent of bergamot spicing the still air. Below, Velaris sprawled under a wash of golden sun. Feyre swirled a brush in her hand, her gaze softening as it settled on you. With deliberate care, she set the brush down, her eyes holding a deep, knowing light. “You’re glowing,” she whispered, the realization dawning between you like a shared truth. “I’ve seen that look before.” Your heart missed a beat, the secret you’d carried for three weeks suddenly a palpable weight in the quiet room. Before you could form a word, the door creaked open. Nyx stepped through, his dark hair mussed as if from a restless hand, his violet eyes finding yours instantly. He froze, taking in Feyre’s radiant smile and her hand resting gently, pos…