Nytherael woke up to lingering sensations from the previous night. He felt light, unburdened by the troubles of the world.

His eyes opened to see the first light of day slowly emerge from the window. He sat up, silently smiling at the beautiful morning.

He turned to his side, and the spot on the bed was empty. He clearly remembered the previous night that he’d fallen asleep with both his husbands.

Sseraphis occupied the middle part of the bed, draping his exhausted body on Aeltharion while he lay with his head on Sseraphis’ back, Aeltharion slept on the other end of the bed.

But now, not only was the space empty, but the part of the bed seemed as though it hadn’t felt the weight of anyone else.

A crease formed between his eyebrows and at the corner of his eyes, and the aching in his head started to hurt.

"No, that can’t be," he whispered, his head hammering. "Last night... was real."

His voice shivered. He himself didn’t believe the words that he was saying. He couldn’t convince himself.

Nytherael threw the blanket aside. He got to his feet and searched the room. He rushed to the spot he recalled throwing his blindfold and found it missing.

Not just the blindfold, but every evidence of his husbands ever coming to the hut was gone like they had never been there.

"No, no, no, no..." he screamed in denial. "This can’t be... it was real..." he wasn’t convincing himself at all.

He opened the door and ran out, barefoot. His feet carrying his weight, hurrying to his destination.

He rushed to the lake. Hoping to gaze upon his reflection, in search of love bites... marks. Any sign or indication that the previous night hadn’t been a figment of hid imagination.

A sign that he had indeed spent a night with his husbands. Embraced in their softness, warmth, and love.

When he reached the lake. He slid off the tunic he had on and walked to the edge, and stared down at his reflection.

His fair skin was clean, unmarked by any sign of indulgence. Aeltharion’s bites and Sseraphis’ scratches were missing from his body.

"It was a dream?" He dull voice sounded as he began to question everything. "All of it was... a dream?"

Sseraphis being kind to him? Aeltharion birthday gift? The night of passion between the three of them? Had all of it been a sick and twisted game Sseraphis created in the illusion? Had nothing been real?

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Refusing to believe that it was all a trick. The touch felt too real against his skin, the kiss... he could still taste venom and a bit of dragon spice on his lips.

His body had drowned in the familiar embrace of his lovers. He hugged his arms. The cold breeze from the lake caresses his bare skin and makes him shake.

Nytherael remembered Aeltharion’s fair skin with a golden undertone and traces of obsidian scales. He recalled vividly the dragon’s weight pressing at his back, and Sseraphis’ lean body beneath him.

The loud moans that filled the little hut resonated in his head like a broken record, a reminder of his longing that he’d thought had been quenched, only to open his eyes and discover that it was far from the truth.

He stared down at the mismatched eyes staring back at him from his reflection in the water. The look in those eyes made his skin shiver.

They were broken. Not just hurt or angry, simply broken. He’d thought himself strong, capable of combating whatever Sseraphis threw his way to stop him from fixing his past mistakes but he had underestimated Sseraphis, and the lengths the snake was willing to go to drag Jim down.

The emotional rollarcoaster of the night took a toll on him. Nytherael wanted out. Out of the illusion, out of the dynasty and out of...

For a still second, he wished he had stayed frozen in Lake Qihera. Waking up to the moving world, where the one he loves has become his enemy and the other half of their whole played a neutral bystander in their fight, left a sour taste in his mouth.

He wanted to laugh it off. He tried to force the corner of his mouth to curve up, but only managed a butter twitch to Sseraphis’ idea of a cruel joke.

The more he thinks about what happened, the more his head hurt. He ruffled his hair. Time seemed to slow down around him, and the echo of his misery felt louder in the stilled space.

He closed his eyes. Nytherael wanted to forget everything that happened, but his brain betrayed him ny replaying the previous night over and over, on repeat. He groaned in frustration.

Nythereal slipped back on his tunic and started walking aimlessly. He didn’t wish to go back to the hut and be reminded of last night’s memories.

He kicked pebbles and sticks that he found on the ground as he walked. He looked dishevelled. His dark eyes cast down, messy hair and wrinkled tunic, his androgynous beauty dimmed under such conditions, but he still had a lazy appeal about him.

"Sseraphis," he whispered after walking for a long time. He wasn’t sure the snake could hear him, but he had to give it a try for the sake of his sanity. "You win. I want out... please end this..."

He sighed tiredly before continuing his walk. He didn’t wish to fight anymore or win either. Fighting meant going head to head with his lover, and while he didn’t wish to harm Sseraphis, it didn’t mean that the snake shared the same sentiments.

And winning... that meant stooping to Sseraphis’ level and playing tricks below the belt, and that would only ruin what little chance he had of a reconciliation. He wasn’t up for either of those choices.

"...just... end it all."

"Well, that just seems sad," he heard and raised his head to find a slender creamy pool in place of eyes looking at him. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Nytherael stopped. He examined the beast sitting on a rock a few feet away with cation.

The beast with grey long hair had a black mist covering the lower of his face with only his eyes visible. Not exactly eyes as he had no pupils. They were just a creamy pool.

"Who are you?"

The beast turned his head in his direction, and those pools seemed like they were looking at him. He stepped back, tensed.

"A friend of a friend," the beast said, popping scrumptious candies in his mouth.

"How did you end up here?"

"Same as you, I guess," he answered. "The friend I mentioned dragged me here before setting up this illusion. Crazy fellow," he added, speaking casually as though he and Nythereal were friends.

"Who’s your friend?" Nytherael asked, getting suspicious of the beast’s identity.

It unsettled him how composed the beast was, like he was enjoying snacks in his abode instead of reacting like someone stuck in an illusion. Where he was being puppeteered by someone.

"A grumpy, bossy nine-headed snake that doesn’t know how to take no for an answer," the beast replied honestly, no games.

His honesty stilled Nytherael. The description he gave of his friend seemed like he was referring to Sseraphis.

Nytherael’s face made an ugly twist. He deduced the beast was another attack from Sseraphis like Ssirel, and last night had been. He took another step back and raised his guards up on high alert.

Just then, Sseraphis appeared. "There you are. I’ve looked everywhere for you," he addressed the beast.

Nythereal froze. His heart picked up a beat at the sight of Sseraphis, his mind recalling Sseraphis’ grey skin tainted with red hues as he flushed from pleasure the night before, and he found himself swallowing hard.

"And I was hiding from you."

Sseraphis felt his gaze. He looked over and immediately frowned. "Why are you here with him?" He asked the beast.

"I was alone, then he appeared. And now you," the beast munched on more sweets.

"Come with me." Sseraphis grabbed the beast’s wrist and pulled him to his feet. "It’s time to get to work."

"Sseraphis," Nytherael caught himself calling out.

Sseraphis paused, only for a second before he disappeared with the beast.

Nytherael blinked, confused.