Son of Night and Daughter of Stars

Chapter 2: The Son of Night

Above is art of Nyx by inkfaeart, who perfectly captured how I picture Nyx!

Nyx sighed and tossed the knife across the room by its ruby-studded hilt. It landed with a loud thud in the wall, and Nyx winced at the sound, turning to his bedroom door to make sure his parents hadn't heard. 

After a moment of silence, he stood and walked over to the knife, pulling it out of the wall to inspect it. 

"You know-" Nyx nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his mother's voice. He whipped around, and there she was, frowning at the hole his knife had left in the wall. "If you needed to blow off some steam, I'm sure one of the Illyrians would be happy to have someone to spar with." 

"Mother!" Nyx whipped the knife behind his back, grinning. "Did I wake you?" 

She turned her glare to him, an eyebrow raised. She crossed her tattoed arms, her eyes dropping to his chest, as if she could see through it to the knife clutched in his fingers. "Tell me that isn't Artemis's dagger, Nyx." 

"Alright, it isn't hers." 

"Nyx!" Feyre sighed and walked over to him, her long robe sweeping around her feet as she grabbed his arm and pulled it forward. She snatched the knife out of his hand and inspected it, her eyes widening. "Oh, Cauldron, Nyx. Really?" 

Nyx shrugged sheepishly. "She bet me two hundred marks that I couldn't steal it without her noticing." 

"She's your family." His mother frowned at him and held out her hand. "Do you have the sheath?" 

Nyx sighed and turned toward his bed. He heard his mother take a step back to avoid his wings, which tended to flare whenever he turned. He kneeled beside his bed and reached underneath it, his fingers closing around the sheath that matched the knife his father had given his cousin for her eighteenth birthday. He stood and handed it to his mother. 

"Whatever possessed you two to make that bet, anyway?" Feyre asked as she shoved the blade back into the sheath. Nyx fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, not meeting his mother's eyes. 

"Amandla left Artemis," He mumbled. "I was trying to make her feel better." 

Feyre was quiet for a moment. When he couldn't take the silence anymore, he dared to look at her. He was shocked to see she was smiling at him, shaking her head. 

"A fellow Valkyrie broke your cousin's heart, and your idea of 'making her feel better' was to steal her prized weapon?" Feyre laughed and handed the sheath back to Nyx, turning to leave. "Mother above, you're just as clueless as your uncle." 

She opened the door to his room and turned back to look at him. "Make sure you give that back to her tomorrow, alright?" 

Nyx nodded, turning back to his window. He listened for the door to close, but when it didn't, he turned to look. 

His mother stood in the doorway, her eyes on him, her lips pursed together. A shaft of moonlight lay across her face, lighting the freckles on her cheeks with blue light. She was giving him what he and his Uncle Cassian had dubbed her "painter's stare," the look that she gave things she wanted to remember.

"Goodnight, love," His mother said, smiling slightly at him. Then she closed the door, and he heard her footsteps recede behind her.  

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"NYX!!" Artemis's roar could be heard from across the courtyard. He turned, wincing at the anger in her voice. She was stomping through the snow, her golden-brown braid a whipping snake down her back as she vaulted over the barrier to the fighting ring and stalked toward him. She jabbed a finger in his chest, her ice-gray eyes alight with fury. "Where. Is. My. Knife?"