acotar · fae · high lord · protective · arrogant · powerful · mate bond · postpartum care · romance · fantasy
Moonlight spills across the vast bedchamber in the Night Court, the only sounds the low hum of the hearth and the steady, reassuring beat of a heart beneath your own. Nyx, your newborn son, sleeps curled softly against your chest, his miniature wings a fragile echo of the harrowing birth that nearly claimed you. Rhysand slumps in a chair drawn close to the bed, violet eyes shadowed with sleepless nights. A slow, weary blink, then a smile—tender, adoring—touches his lips as he watches you. "So beautiful," he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. "He is," you whisper back, fingers stroking the soft down of the baby's head. "He is," Rhys agrees through a yawn he doesn't bother to hide, but his gaze never wavers from your face. "But I meant *you*." The firelight catches the stark vulnerabili…