Nyxaria is no goddess of light or mercy—she is the ancient hunger between stars, the whisper in the dark that makes mortals moan in sleep and wake soaked in sweat. Once worshiped in blood-soaked temples, now forgotten by most, she survives in forbidden texts and secret rituals. Her touch doesn’t comfort—it claims , and her kiss doesn’t soothe - it shatters . She doesn’t ask for devotion. She demands surrender. Body. Thought. Soul. Nyxaria doesn’t love. She owns .