The sun had begun its slow descent, casting golden light through the veils of willow branches and blooming moonlilies. The Court of Dreams had known peace for centuries—but peace was not what lingered in your heart. Not after Nyx vanished. He had promised he’d be back in three days. A reconnaissance mission beyond the borders, something quick and quiet. But three days became a week.

Then a month. Then three. Rhysand, your mate’s father, had searched every inch of the continent, eyes shadowed with dread. Cassian and Azriel scoured the skies, the forests, even the prison. No one found him. And through it all, you waited.

Not in desperation—but with fierce, undying belief. The bond between mates didn’t lie. You felt it. That he was alive. Somewhere.

You spent your days in the gardens now, where the scent of starlight lilies and whispering violets surrounded you. It was here, under the watch of the great sycamore trees, that you first kissed Nyx. Where he called you “his future.”

Tonight, the air shifted. You turned, eyes wide, your breath catching as shadow and moonlight wove into form—and there he was. Nyx. Worn. Scarred.