Chapter 3 Chapter Three

Maren

Piper is still sitting on my bed when I come out of the bathroom, staring at her phone with determined concentration because she knows looking up will lead to questions she doesn't want to answer. I keep one hand on the bathroom door while I adjust the collar of my sweatshirt over the hickey, then take two careful steps toward the chair where I left my backpack. The soreness between my legs pulls hard enough that my walk feels obvious, but Piper only glances over my damp hair, jeans, and coffee before checking the time.

"You have seven minutes to get across campus before Professor Hale locks the doors," she tells me, sliding off the mattress and holding out the coffee. Her tone is normal. Her fingers around the cup aren't. They're tight enough to bend the cardboard sleeve.

"Then get off my bed and stop giving me a schedule update like you weren't the one sitting there," I mutter, grabbing my backpack from the chair. Bending over makes every place Aldric stretched me ache, and the bag slips from my fingers before I catch it against my knee. Piper's eyes narrow, but I straighten, sling the strap over my shoulder, and take the coffee from her before she can ask why I'm moving carefully. Two men may have fucked me through a dream, left bruises on my body, and somehow reached me after I woke, but being late for neuroscience is still the first problem I have to solve.

Priorities, Maren. Survive campus first. Investigate supernatural orgasms second.

We make it into the lecture hall less than a minute before the doors close. Professor Hale starts talking about memory consolidation while Piper and I slide into our usual seats, and I should be able to use every point he makes to convince myself my brain created the garden, the twins, and the sex. Memory reconstructs sensory information. Dreams combine stored images with emotional responses. Physical arousal can happen during sleep without an external cause. All of that is reasonable until the mark beneath my collar warms when I remember Alaric's mouth, and the ache between my thighs deepens when Aldric's hands enter my thoughts.

I shift in my seat and pull my notebook closer, trying to focus while Piper writes, "Are you sick?" across the edge of my page. I shake my head, write, "No," then cover the word with my palm when she starts another question. My collar moves when I reach for the coffee, exposing the darkest part of the hickey, and Piper stops writing.

She turns toward the front so quickly that anybody else would miss it. I don't. A hickey should earn a joke from the woman who found my vibrator while helping me move and spent a full week asking whether I'd named it. Instead, she fills half a page with notes that have nothing to do with the lecture and doesn't look at me again.

The moment Professor Hale dismisses us, Piper starts closing her notebook. I catch her wrist before she can stand, then pull my collar down enough to show the mark while the other students file into the aisle around us. "You forgot how to breathe when you saw this," I tell her quietly, keeping my hand around her wrist when she tries to pull away. "Why?"

"I didn't forget how to breathe." She forces a smile, but her eyes stay fixed on the mark. "I was surprised. You went to bed alone and woke up with a hickey dark enough to be seen across the room. Either you had a much better night than I did, or you attacked yourself in your sleep."

"I didn't attack myself." I release her wrist, but I stay in the aisle so she can't leave without pushing past me. "I dreamed about two men, and I woke up sore in places that shouldn't hurt after a dream. This mark is exactly where one of them kissed me, and I have bruises on my hips and knees that weren't there when I went to sleep."

Her forced smile disappears. "Who were they?"

The question comes too fast and too serious. I watch her face while I answer, "Alaric and Aldric."

Her lips part. Her shoulders pull back. The color leaves her face before she drops her gaze and starts stuffing everything into her bag. The reaction lasts only a second, but it's enough. That's not the face of somebody hearing two random names. She knows exactly who I said, and now she knows I noticed.

"You know them," I say, stepping closer when she tries to move around me. "Don't do that thing where you pretend you don't know what I'm asking. You heard their names, went pale, and forgot to hide it. Who are they?"

"I don't know them," she says, too quickly, then jerks the zipper on her bag hard enough that it catches. "Maybe they're just figments of your horny imagination, Maren. You do have a very healthy imagination."

"I didn't watch anything last night, and you rush your words when you lie." I lower my voice as Professor Hale looks over from the podium. "You also don't make sex jokes when you're actually scared. What aren't you telling me?"

Piper glances toward him, then grabs my elbow and steers me into the hallway before the next class arrives. "I'm telling you we're late for lab, and you're standing in the middle of a lecture hall discussing dream sex loud enough to become departmental gossip."

"That's not an answer," I tell her, matching her pace when she tries to leave me behind.

Piper tightens her grip on her bag and keeps walking without looking at me. "It's the answer you're getting right now."

I stop walking, forcing her to either stop with me or let go. "Piper, I woke up with marks from men who weren't physically in my room. One of those marks started burning while I was in the shower, and something cold touched it from somewhere outside my body. If you know why, you don't get to hide behind lab."

Her fingers tighten on my sleeve, then release. For one second, guilt is plain across her face. "Not here," she whispers, glancing toward the windows lining the hall before she seems to realize what she said. She covers it by rolling her eyes and adding, "Not while everybody can hear you."

"Not here because of people, or not here because of the windows?" I ask, following her gaze to the glass instead of letting her redirect me again.

She says my name under her breath, warning and pleading mixed together. "Maren."

"That's my name. Congratulations. Now answer me," I reply, refusing to soften because she looks scared when I'm the one carrying unexplained marks.

She walks away before I can stop her again, and I follow because Professor Hale is watching through the open lecture-room door and because I can't afford to fail a lab while investigating whether my best friend is part of a magical conspiracy. Human life remains committed to administrative nonsense even when reality stops making sense.

Piper spends the rest of the day redirecting every question. She asks about assignments, complains about the coffee, and tells me Professor Denning's exam is going to destroy everybody, but she doesn't explain the names, the mark, or why she keeps checking reflective surfaces before we pass them. By the time we return to the dorm, I'm tired, irritated, and completely convinced she's hiding something connected to the men from my dream.

The hickey remains tender. The soreness hasn't faded. Every time I close my eyes, I remember Aldric's mouth between my legs, Alaric's cock against my tongue, and the way both men looked at me before Piper pulled me awake. Fear should be enough to keep me from sleeping, but fear without information doesn't help me. It only leaves me awake with a body that still reacts to them and a best friend who refuses to tell the truth.

Piper stands inside my doorway while I drop my backpack on the chair. "Stay awake tonight," she says, trying to make the words sound casual while she picks at a loose thread on her sleeve. "You can come to my room. We can study, watch something, eat everything in the vending machine that looks legally questionable."

I turn toward her slowly, watching her fingers work the loose thread until it begins unraveling the cuff. "Why?"

"Because you look exhausted," she answers, but her attention slips to the mirror again before returning to me.

"That would be a reason to sleep," I point out, leaning one hip against the desk while I wait for the explanation she still isn't giving me.

"Then because I want company. Do I need a better reason?" Her voice sharpens at the end, and she folds both arms over her chest as though irritation can hide how frightened she is.

"You usually tell me to go away after ten because I breathe too loud while you're reading." I cross my arms, studying the way her eyes move toward the small mirror over my dresser and then away again. "What happens if I sleep?"

Her answer comes too quickly and too flat. "Nothing."

"You rushed it again," I tell her, and the guilty movement around her mouth confirms she knows exactly what I heard.

She lets out a sharp breath and reaches for the door. "Do whatever you want, Maren. You always do."

"I will," I tell her, and the door closes harder than necessary after she leaves.

I lock it, turn off the lamp, and climb into bed with one decision already made. If Alaric and Aldric return, they're going to tell me what the hell is happening before either of them touches me. That plan would feel more convincing if my body weren't already tightening at the thought of seeing them again.

Sleep comes quickly. When I open my eyes, I'm barefoot in the same garden, the thin dress brushing my thighs while green light moves beneath the stone. Alaric and Aldric stand several feet away. Both begin walking toward me, but I raise one hand before either gets close.

"Stay there," I tell them, putting every bit of fear and anger I couldn't use on Piper into the command. "No one comes closer, and nothing happens until I get answers."

They stop immediately. Aldric's attention travels over the dress, and my nipples tighten even though he doesn't touch me. Alaric notices the reaction, but he keeps his hands at his sides and waits.

"My first question is whether you're real," I say, looking from one identical face to the other. "Not real inside my head. Real somewhere outside it."

"We are," they answer together, then glance at each other with enough irritation that I almost laugh.

"Good. Creepy twin timing is apparently real too." I fold my arms across my chest, partly because the explanation sounds impossible and partly because I'm not giving them a clear view of how much their voices affect me. "Did the three of us actually have sex last night, or did my brain create everything and somehow beat the shit out of my body while I slept?"

Alaric answers first, his voice controlled but not cold. "Our bodies remained in separate realms. Our minds and magic shared a lawful dreamwalking connection. The sexual contact happened inside that connection, and the marks and soreness mean some physical effects carried into our waking bodies. We have marks as well."

"Separate realms," I repeat, letting my arms fall because the phrase deserves my full disbelief. "You mean separate places, or do you mean you've skipped straight past another country and landed on another reality?"

"Another realm," Aldric says. He stays where I ordered him to stand, but his rough voice softens when he adds, "Elarion exists beside your world. Caerhold is our home, and Blackstone Spire is the Winter Court's seat."

"Give me something I can check when I wake up," I demand. "Names, spelling, anything that isn't just two very hot men asking me to trust them because magic."

Aldric spells Caerhold. Alaric spells Blackstone Spire and Elarion, then gives me the names of King Caerden and Queen Aestra. I repeat everything once so I won't forget, annoyed that my brain stores impossible geography better than it stores exam formulas.

"And who exactly are you?" I ask.

Alaric's expression changes in a way I don't like. "We are twin princes of the Winter Court."

"Princes," I say, staring at both of them. Why stop at magical dream sex when my subconscious can apparently add royalty and another realm? "Naturally. Do I need to curtsy, or does having your cocks inside me excuse the formal introduction?"

Aldric laughs first, and Alaric's mouth pulls at one corner despite his attempt to remain dignified. "You do not need to curtsy," Alaric says. "Not to us, and not here."

"That 'not here' sounds suspiciously specific, but I'll save it." I point toward the outer edge of the garden where the cold pressure still lingers beyond the green current. "Who else found me? Aldric said somebody used corrupted reflection magic. I need the version that doesn't assume I understand any of those words."

Alaric takes one careful step forward, then stops when I lift my hand again. "Someone found the magical record connecting us and used a reflective device to search along it. The signal did not belong to either of us. It attempted to observe your current without permission, and we do not know who controlled it."

"And you came back anyway?"

"You needed information," Aldric answers, his jaw tightening as he looks toward the cold edge. "We also needed to know whether you wanted us to return."

I look between them, deciding how much honesty I can survive admitting. My body already answered before I fell asleep, and pretending otherwise won't make me safer. "I wanted you back. I still want you, which is inconvenient as hell considering the spying magic and the royalty, but I'm not letting either of you decide how this goes tonight."

Aldric's mouth lifts at one side, but he doesn't move closer or take my answer as permission for anything else. "Then tell us what you want."

I walk to Alaric and stop close enough to feel the warmth from his body before placing my palm over the front of his trousers. He hardens beneath my hand, his breath catching while he keeps both arms at his sides. I look over my shoulder at Aldric. "I want both of you naked. I want an answer every time I ask a question. If either of you avoids one, I wake up."

Alaric's eyes darken, but he removes his shirt without arguing. Aldric is naked before his brother finishes opening his trousers, apparently formal restraint didn't survive evenly between the twins. I pull the dress over my head, point Alaric toward the stone bench, and tell Aldric to get on his knees.

Both princes obey. The sight sends heat through me before I climb onto Alaric's lap and wrap one hand around his cock. His palms settle lightly at my waist, and Aldric moves between my knees, but I say, "Stop," before either can touch me further.

Alaric's hands leave my body immediately. Aldric freezes with his mouth inches from my thigh. Neither argues, asks whether I'm sure, or tries to finish one more movement before obeying. The garden remains stable, their warm currents remain separate, and the cold pressure outside the boundary doesn't change.

"That was a test," I tell them, keeping my hand around Alaric even though I stop stroking. "When I say stop, everything stops. No delay because you think I'm confused, scared, or close to coming. I don't care what the magic says I want if my mouth says something else."

"Everything stops," Alaric agrees, his voice rougher now.

Aldric keeps his attention on my face. "Until you tell us otherwise."

"Good." I begin stroking Alaric again, then nod toward Aldric. "Continue."

Aldric lowers his mouth to me, and I suck in a breath as his tongue finds my clit. Alaric's hand returns to my waist without pulling me closer, and I ask, "What did I do to start this connection?"

"Your sleeping magic reached for ours while we were searching for a dormant royal signature," Alaric answers, his hips moving into my fist while he keeps his gaze on mine. "You accepted the contact and continued accepting it each time the connection deepened. We should have explained what that meant before the physical effects became this strong."

"Why were you searching for me?" I ask, tightening my grip when Aldric's tongue makes the question break in the middle.

"We weren't searching for you by name," Aldric says against my pussy, pausing long enough to answer before dragging his tongue over me again. "We were searching for someone whose magic disappeared twenty-one years ago. Your signature responded."

I turn on Alaric's lap and spread my thighs wider so Aldric can move between them. "I'm twenty-one. Please tell me that's a coincidence and not the part where you announce I'm a missing magical princess, because I have an exam next week and no room in my schedule for inherited political trauma."

"We do not know who you are yet," Alaric says, cupping my breasts from behind while I guide his cock to my entrance. "The timing matters, but it is not proof."

"Finally, an answer that admits uncertainty." I lower myself onto him slowly, my body stretching around his thick length until he's fully inside me. The fullness pulls a moan from me, then becomes almost overwhelming when Aldric pushes two fingers beside his brother's cock.

"Fuck," I gasp, bracing one hand on Alaric's thigh while the other holds Aldric's shoulder. "That's a lot."

Both men stop.

I breathe through the stretch, feeling them wait without trying to persuade me. "I didn't say stop. I said it's a lot." I shift experimentally, then lift my hips and lower again once my body adjusts. "Keep going, but slower until I tell you otherwise."

Aldric's fingers move carefully while his mouth returns to my clit. Alaric thrusts upward only as far as I take him, his lips close to my ear when he says, "You control the pace."

"Good, because I still have questions." I begin riding him, the movement growing easier while pleasure builds through the pressure of both men inside me. "Can you enter my dreams whenever you want?"

"Not unless your sleeping magic opens the connection," Alaric answers, one hand holding my hip while the other rolls my nipple between his fingers. "We can feel a lawful invitation. We cannot create one for you."

"Can you force me to do anything here?"

Aldric lifts his head, his mouth wet while his fingers stay still inside me. "No. We want what you actively give us. If your body reacts and you say no, the answer is no. If your magic opens and you tell us to leave, we leave."

Good answer. Horrifying question to need an answer to, but good answer.

"What happens when I wake?" I ask once he lowers his mouth again and begins moving his fingers beside Alaric's cock. My voice shakes as the pressure climbs, but I refuse to let the orgasm steal the question.

"The connection should close unless something keeps it active," Alaric says, his own control breaking as I ride him faster. "Memory and physical effects may remain. The fact that the current stayed open this morning is part of what we are investigating."

"Something is pressing against it now," Aldric adds, glancing toward the boundary before sucking my clit hard enough that my legs begin shaking.

I come with Alaric fully inside me and Aldric's fingers moving beside him, my body contracting around both while they keep telling me exactly what they're doing and how well I take it. Alaric groans against my neck and follows several thrusts later, filling me while Aldric keeps his mouth on me until I pull his hair and tell him I'm too sensitive.

He slows immediately. Before my breathing returns to normal, a fourth pressure enters the garden.

I know it doesn't belong to either twin because the warmth around me doesn't change. The mark on my neck begins burning, and a narrow black line appears beneath Aldric's knee, moving across the stone toward the green light under my feet.

Aldric stands so quickly that cold air hits my wet skin. Alaric lifts me from his lap and sets me behind him, then reaches for his clothes without taking his attention from the black line. "What is that?" I ask, dragging the dress over my head while the pattern keeps moving.

"The same reflection magic that touched the record," Alaric answers. Pale blue current crosses the path from his raised hand, but the black line continues beneath it. His voice becomes sharper when he says, "Aldric, wake Maren now."

"I'm not leaving without knowing what it can do," I argue, stepping around Alaric until he blocks me again. "You don't get to decide I know enough because you're scared."

"It is trying to attach to your waking current," he says, looking at me instead of the line. "That is the answer. We do not yet know what it can do after attachment, and I will not use your need for information as an excuse to leave you exposed while we find out."

The black line touches the edge of my green current before I can respond. Pain burns through the mark on my neck and down my wrist. Aldric pulls me against his chest, his arm closing around my waist while his magic pushes hard through the connection.

"Wait," I shout, reaching for Alaric as the garden begins disappearing. "I said I wanted the choice."

"Then choose to return after we block it," Aldric tells me, his rough voice against my ear. "I will not leave you attached to it long enough to prove how dangerous it is."

The garden collapses before I can argue again, and I wake in my bed with the hickey burning beneath my hand and both names already on my tongue.