A Y L A
Her gaze softened just a fraction.
“Let’s start properly,” she said. “With my name.”
The room seemed to hold its breath.
“I am…”
The word lingered, stretching, as though the room itself was waiting for it to be spoken aloud.
“Nyx.”
The name slid into place inside me with a quiet finality that stole my breath.
Nyx.
My knees weakened, and I reached out blindly, steadying myself against the edge of the vanity. The mirror rippled not physically, but in the way my perception of it shifted. The face staring back was still mine, but the eyes… the eyes carried depth now. Weight. Memory.
Nyx watched me from within my own reflection, satisfied.
“That’s… your name,” I said slowly.
“Our name,” she corrected gently. “But yes. Nyx.”
The air felt heavier, charged, like the moments
