Nytherael blinked once, twice. Longing whispered through him. Desire to feel the loving embrace of his husbands coursed through his beings, leaving his heart throbbing with need.

The fear of losing his memories of a time when his wife and husband held him fondly brought him great sadness. Forgetting them would’ve been the cruellest punishment the heavens would cast on him.

"For you, it can be anyone else but us," Sseraphis’ soft voice sounded, one that wasn’t tainted by anger or hatred.

It sounded so close by. It felt as though he was in the room with him.

"That isn’t true. I made a mistake, but I see now that you both are the only ones for me."

He answered in a way that he would to Sseraphis, and Aeltharion had both of them been present in the room with him.

"What of Ilyrien? Do you not love him anymore?"

Nytherael searched his heart for the honest truth. The reality amazed him. The truth was, his heart had held Ilyrien in the highest esteem once, but after meeting Sseraphis and Aeltharion and learning that a cold serpent can feel warm and an isolated dragon can be doting, he had long gotten over Ilyrien.

At the time, his mind was yet to catch up with his heart. He mistook the lingering longing for the one who got away as love and thought he’d be complete only with Ilyrien, but he had been wrong. His happiness rested in the heart of the abyss and in the skies.

"I have no feelings for Ilyrien. I thought I did because I always had feelings for him..." he laughed, mocking his miserable state. "As they say, old habits are hard to break."

"Have you broken them now?"

Sseraphis’ voice struck him as though the male was right beside him. The feeling fueled the longing in his heart, making his heart grow fonder of the memories he has with them.

"I want nothing to do with Ilyrien!" He declared. "I belong solely to Sseraphis and Aeltharion. Soul, mind, heart, and... body."

"I’ll take your word for it then."

Nytherael smiled. He blinked, tears welling up in his eyes. He wished the real Sseraphis was easy to talk to as the imaginary one. Then, all his problems would be solved.

Outside the hut, Sseraphis held Aeltharion’s hand, guiding him. The blindfolded dragon kept his calm even though his patience was running thin.

"What nonsense simulations are running here?"

Sseraphis kept his pace steady and continued talking to Nytherael, "Tell me, beloved. What are you willing to do to get your husbands back?" He asked.

His sweetened voice sent shivers down Aeltharion’s body. He’d been around the new version of Sseraphis for so long that he found it disturbing to hear him speak sweetly to Nytherael even in an illusion.

He knew he was in an illusion as his body sensed the alteration the moment Sseraphis pulled him in. Not to mention the fact that the illusion seemed to suppress his beast, he couldn’t feel his dragon side.

"Anything," he heard Nytherael replied, and his stomach coiled.

"Why must you create an illusion, Ssese? If you miss Nytherael, we can just..."

"Hush-hush," Sseraphis placed his index finger on Aeltharion’s lips. "No more talking from this point going forward," he instructed.

"But why?"

"It’s part of my surprise for you. You can’t question a gift. That’s just rude."

"Alright."

The door to the hut was open. Sseraphis walked Aeltharion through, then feet barely making any sound.

He stopped a pinch away from the small wooden bed. His violet-black eyes glanced at Nytherael, his rotating pupils forcing a gentle glance.

’Just for one night.’

Nytherael sensed his gaze on him and looked up. Seeing Sseraphis and Aeltharion there didn’t exited him, no. He felt extremely sad because his husbands could only come to him in his dream. In reality, they wanted nothing to do with him and preferred to be distant from him.

He stared blankly at the two figures hovering over him. He commended himself for his accurate imagination.

Aeltharion stood tall, hovering over the bed. Dressed in a loose see-through black tunic with his long flowing hair let down. But what stunned him was the blindfold on his face.

Sseraphis looked slimmer, his elegant built standing out brightly. His deep grey skin with subtle scale shimmered under the moonlight. His long midnight-blue hair moved like liquid shadow in the soft breeze that blew into the room from the wind while his slightly darker toned lips that were often stained like ink were smiling at him softly.

"I can’t do this to myself," he whispered, looking up. Imagining them around hurt more than knowing they were far from him.

He didn’t wish to get lost in the illusion because he’d never want to wake up and that meant that his reunion with his husbands would be postponed to a later date, he couldn’t have that.

So when the spot on the bed next to him dipped, he didn’t dare to look. ’Why are you so cruel to me, Sseraphis?’ He couldn’t understand why Sseraphis would create such a simulation in the illusion to torture him. It was way past cruelty.

Sseraphis touched Nytherael’s eyebrows. He moved his finger gentle and massaged away the tight knot on them. The coldness of his fingers made Nytherael’s breath hitch.

"Sit up," he instructed.

Nytherael fell weak to his sweet voice. Even though he convinced himself not to give in, his body moved on its own and sat up.

Sseraphis pulled out a blindfold and fastened it around Nytherael’s eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Eyes are but windows of the soul. You don’t need them to feel love," he said. He turned away from Nytherael, grabbed Aeltharion’s wrist, and motioned for the dragon to join them.

Aeltharion felt the bed with his foot. Carefully, he succeeded in getting on the bed without hurting himself.

"Happy birthday, my sweet constant," he whispered, locking lips with Aeltharion and kissing him deeply.

Nytherael’s mind raced. He recalled, he’d entered the illusion on 3rd of the second moon, he didn’t know how much time had passed in the outside world but judging by ’imaginary Sseraphis’ words, it seemed that a day had passed and it was now the fourth of the second moon. Aeltharion’s birthday.

’How could I have forgotten such an important day?’

Before he could ponder on it, cold fingers brushed upon his lips. Breaking free from the kiss with Aeltharion, Sseraphis pulled his two lovers close, slightly leaning his head back to give them room.

He guided Nytherael’s hand to Aeltharion’s neck. "Won’t you wish Aelthie a happy birthday, beloved?"

Nytherael didn’t need a reminder. ’I know I can’t be with you in real life today, and I am sorry. I’ll wish the fake you a happy birthday and hope the message finds you,’ he thought bitterly.

His fingers traced Aeltharion’s collarbone. He warm skin under his finger tempted him to believe that his dragon was truly there with him. He swallowed, his desire flickering to life.

His fingers moved up, tracing the fine lines of Aeltharion’s neck, savouring the feeling of his dragon’s Adams apple that felt like the real thing.

His dragon swallowed, his adams apple moved up and down, teasing Nytherael’s finger. Using his finger as eyes with his blindfolds on, Nytherael followed the trail up until he reached Aeltharion’s chin.

He leaned in a planted featherlight kiss there. Aeltharion exhaled through his nose, his breath ghosting over Nytherael’s cheek. He shivered heat pooling in his lower abdomen. For a simulation, everything felt so real.

Frustrated by the little tease, Aeltharion reached out, gripped Nytherael’s neck, and pulled close enough for Nytherael to feel the heat of him. To feel ragged breath was stimulated by his fentery touches. Even though he knew it was an illusion, he mixed his fox to a point of indulgence.

Nytherael felt his pulse roar in his ears. It drowned out the noise around him. His breath came fast, and his control slipped.

Taking the lead, he leaned in, his lips stopping shy of Aeltharion’s lips. "Happy birthday, Lightning," he said, his dragon felt too close, too warm and too intoxicating to ignore. So, he stopped resisting and kissed him.

His lips pressed against Aeltharion’s, soft yet demanding, teasing yet devouring.

Aeltharion tensed, his mind screaming at how perfectly Sseraphis captured Nytherael’s taste in the illusion. He wanted to end the simulation before it consumed him entirely, but his body betrayed him.

A low, involuntary sound escaped from Nytherael’s as his fingers curled into Aeltharion’s tunic. His knees weakened, and for a fleeting moment, he let himself fall.

Aeltharion deepened the kiss instantly. One hand slipping to Nytherael’s waist, the other threading into his hair, tilting his head to take more, to claim him.

It was intoxicating; the way Aeltharion kissed, the way he demanded surrender without a single word. And gods help him because Nytherael gave in.

Just as he was getting pulled in deeper, Nytherael opened his eyes and pulled back, breaking the kiss.

His chest heaved, his lips tingling, bruised from the kiss. He removed the blindfold and stared at Aeltharion, horrified at himself, at what he had just allowed.

Even though he missed his husbands, it felt wrong to give in to a ’version’ of them. It felt like he was cheating his husbands all over again.