Nyxie Name Meaning Novels & Stories

Alistair and I exchange looks because we’ve been avoiding this, avoiding the intimacy that comes with naming something, the attachment. “What do you think we should call it?” I ask, deflecting. The children consider this with that synchronized head-tilt they do. “Nyx,” Dante says. “It means night. Because it came from darkness but is trying to become light.” “Or trying to pull us all into darkness,” Donald mutters from where he’s monitoring the baby with yet another diagnostic spell. But the name fits somehow, this creature that’s both shadow and substance, ending and beginning. “Nyx,” I repeat, testing it. The baby coos in response and reaches for me with tiny hands. “Alright. Nyx it is.”

Her black hair fell loosely around her shoulders, and her eyes seemed unusually bright in the dim light. She looked at them calmly. “Well,” she said, “I didn’t expect visitors tonight.” Cael lowered his sword slightly. “And we didn’t expect strangers in an ancient secret library.” The girl tilted her head. “Fair.” Lyra studied her carefully. “Who are you?” The girl smiled faintly. “My name is Nyx.” Astraen’s glow flickered slightly. “You came here alone?” he asked. Nyx shrugged. “I’ve been exploring these ruins for a while.”

he asked abruptly. "I'm not interested. If you don't step aside, I'll call security," she said, her tone sharp. "Nyce Tech comes from your name—Nyla. I built it for you," Gabriel explained, his voice low but earnest. "Gabriel, do you even believe your own charade, or are you just trying to fool yourself?" Nyla chuckled coldly, her gaze unwavering. "I couldn't care less about the name of your company. And frankly, stop disgusting me, will you?"

Nix took a deep breath and finally answered his question. “Yes, a girl and boy. Sage and Slyven are their names. I know you can already guess that Sage is a princess. Slyven is werewolf. I didn’t know that could happen.” Nix told her father, then looked at the two sitting near her. Sage seemed happy that she would be in a group of people that wanted to know her.

he asked, excitedly. “That’s what Faye says, at least,” I rolled my eyes which earned a scowl from my wolf in my head. “Zues says the same,” Nash nodded hastily. “Zues?” I asked as I heard Faye purr in my head lovingly. “Does Faye like the name? I know Zues absolutely loves the name Faye,” Nash smiled sheepishly. “What does Faye means?” ‘Tell her I love it, and I hope his personality is also like the name,’ Faye swooned in my head.

“From the sounds we heard all over the castle, it didn’t seem like you weren’t enjoying yourself.” Normally, I’d panic when a stranger entered my room. But today? I can’t bring myself to care. If she’s here to kill me, I welcome it. “How tiresome,” she huffs when I don’t respond. The bed dips behind me. And the meaning of “namesake” finally filters through the cotton in my brain. Nyx. The Greek goddess of night. She’s in bed with me. I’d be more impressed if I felt anything at all. But if she’s here—calm, unafraid—she’s not here to rescue me.

I spoke, bringing out the rational part and saw Hope open her lips to say something, but closed them. "The strongest spirits have names that represent something, Sin, Night, Destruction, Water, Sun, Moon, Iron, Vengeance, among others." Hope spoke slowly, taking it all in bit by bit. She took a deep breath and shook her head lightly, trying to control those waves of anger and hatred. "Exactly, no matter the race. The spiritual part and their names are important to know how strong they will be." I completed and finally held her hand, saw her go rigid. "Nyx is the personification of the Night, but not only the Night."

He explained. Suddenly, he felt his heart leapt when he saw him smile. "I see..." he said and looked at the forest afar. His beautiful purple eyes are sparkling and his light green hair flutters in the night wind. Mythos stared at him. He felt his chest is filled with different emotions. "Say." He called. He looked at him. "Can you tell me your name?" Mythos asked. He felt his heart beat fast when he smiled at him. "I am Nyx." He told him.

He looked at her as though she was simply beautiful. Proserpina blinked. And the sudden sense of awareness immediately flowed through every single nerve when his gaze slowly wandered to her body and inaudibly swallowed, licking his lips, clearly liking what he saw. ‘Enough–’ “State your name.” He grinned broadly, appearing absurdly pleased at the chance of having to introduce himself, “Alastor Nyx of the Northern Pack.” Proserpina raised an eyebrow at that. How curious… Alastor Nyx is Ancient Greek that literally means avenger of the night, if translated in typical-tongue.

Theron asked after a long moment, his voice hoarse, his hand gentle on the baby’s head. Nyx looked down at her daughter’s face, at the tiny features and the dark hair and the mouth open in protest, and thought about the two children buried in the grove. About Lyra and Kael who never got to cry or breathe or live. This baby had survived where they hadn’t, had made it past the curse somehow, and she deserved a name that honored that impossible victory. “Aria,” Nyx said softly, testing the name. “Her name is Aria.”