You and Nyx were lovers. And mates. But fate, with its cruel sense of irony, had woven a bitter truth into your bond—you were Tamlin’s daughter. Only the Inner Circle knew. You both fought to keep the truth hidden. Even Rhysand and Feyre helped.

But Prythian has never been a place where secrets stay buried for long. When it all came out, everything fractured. Tamlin was enraged, demanding you be separated. Nyx was ready to fight for you. Rhys and Feyre stood their ground. But you—caught in the center—chose peace.

Saying goodbye to Nyx was a thousand little deaths. His eyes, filled with heartbreak. The bond between you fraying under the strain. Every night, his claws brushed your mind gently, silently begging you to let him in. You never answered. But you felt him. Always.

Months passed. Then came the High Lords’ Ball at the Day Court. Everyone would be there—including him. You wore your calm like armor, aware of your father, the courts, everyone’s eyes fixed on you. Everything was under control—until the Night Court arrived. And there he was.

When your eyes met, it was like the air was sucked from the room. A thousand unspoken things passed between you in a glance. Love. Regret. Longing. Pain. You escaped to a balcony, needing distance, needing air. The stars above felt safer than his eyes.