14 parts Complete MatureNyx watched his father at the head of the table, his palm resting gently on his mother's tattooed hand.
Rhysand laughed at something Mor was saying, the sound pure and happy.
Nyx stared with such intensity that it was noticed by the Inner Circle. His father turned to him, a small smile on his lips. He was so elated to have his son home once more.
Nyx wanted to break something.
"Are you real?" He whispered out loud.
His father's smile faltered. Feyre tensed at her son's hoarse voice. He hadn't spoken since that morning, but then again that was nothing new. Nyx rarely spoke these days.
"Nyx, my darling?" She asked softly.
Nyx had only eyes for his father.
"How can you stand it?" He asked, he sounded tired even to his own ears, "How can you sit there...and act happy?"
His father sucked in a breath, and leaned closer as if to offer some sort of comfort. "I am happy, Nyx. I'm not pretending."
Nyx flinched. Rhysand's face shattered. He stilled. Nyx watched him swallow.
"I know what she's done to you..." Nyx said, "Amarantha told me exactly how she hurt you. She hurt me in the exact same way-"
"Nyx," Feyre sniffed, "Please."
"You cannot let her win, Nyx." Rhysand's voice was soft. "She can't win-"
"But she has already won, dad." Nyx said, and there were tears running down his face. "She broke me."
Rhysand shut his eyes tightly against the confession. The image of his baby boy in such agony-
"I am so tired." Nyx said, "I don't want to live like this. She took everything from me. My wings. My freedom. My dignity. I just want to die-"
"Stop." Feyre cried. "Please. Nyx. Stop. You don't mean that."
Nyx finally turned to look at his mother. There was such understanding in her eyes.
"What else is there?" He said before leaving the room entirely.
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An old villain has risen from the dead with vengence on her mind.
Nyx, the heir of Night, and Danae, the heir of Spring, shall pay for the sins of their fathers.