Sleep didn’t come easily that night. It didn’t come at all.

Long after Liora had slipped away with one last worried glance over her shoulder, and the others had finally surrendered to their exhaustion, my mind remained a whirlwind of unrest.

The dormitory felt stifling, its stone walls pressing in like a cage. The air hung heavy and warm, thick with the faint scents of sweat, old wood, and the lingering metallic tang of fear that still clung to our clothes.

No matter how tightly I squeezed my eyes shut, the nightmare refused to loosen its grip. It replayed in merciless fragments: the relentless scuttling of Blood Ants across damp earth, Ivy’s piercing final scream echoing through the ruins, and that haunting, velvet-smooth voice whispering directly into the core of my being, not once, not twice, but three times, each utterance laced with an otherworldly certainty that made my skin crawl.

I tossed and turned beneath the thin blanket, the fabric twisting around my legs like living vines. Theo had eventually quieted after pilfering half of Kaden’s dwindling food supplies, his complaints dissolving into satisfied snores. Lyra had curled into the tightest ball imaginable, as if she could physically shield herself from the horrors we’d witnessed. Elion had lingered by the window for what felt like hours, his silhouette etched against the moonlight with an expression I couldn’t begin to decipher, before vanishing into the night without a word. Thorne, ever the stoic shadow, had simply closed his eyes and drifted off in silence.

But I lay awake, heart racing, nerves frayed to their breaking point.

With a frustrated groan, I finally sat up, dragging a trembling hand through my tangled hair. The room was too small. Too crowded with ghosts. Maybe fresh air would clear the chaos in my head. Or maybe I was already slipping into madness, one sleepless hour at a time. At this point, both options seemed equally plausible.

I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could, bare feet padding across the cool stone floor, before getting my boot. The heavy wooden door creaked softly as I eased it open, and I froze, listening for any sign that I’d disturbed the others.

I stepped into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind me with a gentle click.

The night air embraced me like a balm, cool, crisp, and laced with the earthy perfume of pine, moss, and distant blooming night flowers. It chased away the suffocating warmth of the dormitory, filling my lungs and steadying my pulse.

Altheris Academy transformed under the moonlight. The ancient spires and ivy-covered walls took on an ethereal glow, bathed in liquid silver that spilled across cobblestone paths and marble statues like molten starlight. Shadows danced in elegant patterns, and the usual daytime bustle had given way to a profound, almost sacred quiet.

I walked without direction, feet carrying me farther than I had planned. Past the flickering lanterns of the dormitories, beyond the silent training fields where echoes of clashing blades still seemed to linger in the air, and past the grand academy halls whose towering silhouettes loomed like watchful guardians. The distant murmur of night patrols and the occasional hoot of an owl faded until only the soft rustle of leaves and my own breathing remained.

My thoughts, however, refused to quiet. They kept circling back to that voice. The one that had spoken in Morvalis. The same calm, resonant timbre I had heard during the chaotic battle at the academy week earlier. A chill traced icy fingers down my spine. What was it? Who... or what... was speaking to me? And why?

Lost in the maze of my spiraling thoughts, I didn’t notice how far I had strayed until the dense, primordial forest bordering the academy’s outer edges rose before me. Towering trees stood like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches interlocking overhead to form a canopy that filtered moonlight into ghostly shafts. Their long shadows stretched across the forest floor like grasping fingers, hungry and alive.

Too quiet, I thought, a prickle of unease settling in my gut. Far too quiet.

I should turn back. Return to the safety of the dormitory before I wandered into something I couldn’t explain.

I pivoted on my heel...

Then it came.

A low, throaty moan drifted through the trees, soft and unmistakably human. My body locked in place, every muscle tensing.

At first, concern flared... someone hurt? Lost? But another sound followed: heavy, ragged breathing, then a second moan, deeper this time, laced with raw pleasure. A breathless gasp soon joined it, followed by the subtle, rhythmic cadence of bodies moving in heated unison.

Oh.

Heat flooded my cheeks. Oh no.

Common sense screamed at me to retreat immediately. Curiosity, that treacherous traitor, won instead.

My feet moved of their own accord, carrying me silently deeper into the woods like a moth drawn inexorably to a blazing inferno. Twigs and fallen leaves whispered beneath my careful steps. The sounds grew clearer, more intimate: whispered sighs, guttural groans, the slick rhythm of skin against skin, the unmistakable symphony of passion unfolding in the darkness.

I parted a cluster of low-hanging branches and froze.

Four men. One woman.

The moonlight filtered through the canopy in silvery beams, illuminating the scene with breathtaking, forbidden clarity. The air itself seemed charged, thick with the musk of desire and the faint, sweet scent of crushed wildflowers beneath them.

One man lay beneath the woman, his powerful body supporting her as he thrust upward with fluid, relentless intensity. Behind her, another stood with commanding presence, his large hands gripping her hips possessively while he drove into her with deep, measured strokes that made her arch and tremble. The remaining two knelt close, their mouths and hands devoted entirely to her... teasing, sucking, caressing her breasts and throat with ravenous hunger, as though she were the sole focus of their existence, a goddess they worshipped with every touch.

My mind reeled in stunned disbelief.

How had four such dominant, formidable men agreed to share one woman in this way? The sheer intimacy, the raw synchronization of their movements... it was overwhelming.

Then the second, more devastating question hit me.

Who was she? What kind of woman could command such devotion from all of them at once?

Which shameless woman was it?

Heart hammering against my ribs, I edged closer, straining to identify their faces through the interplay of light and shadow.

Recognition crashed over me like a tidal wave, because it was...

Thorne.

Elion.

Mr. Asher.

Ashriel.

My breath stalled in my lungs. What the...?

For one delirious heartbeat, I wondered if the horrors of Morvalis had finally shattered my sanity completely.

Ashriel’s powerful form moved behind her with dark, possessive grace, his expression fierce and concentrated as he claimed her. Elion lay beneath, his thrusts elegant yet fierce, eyes locked on her face. Mr. Asher and Thorne lavished her with unrelenting attention, their lips and fingers exploring every curve, drawing out gasps and shudders that echoed through the trees.

The scene felt impossibly vivid, ripped from the depths of some fevered, taboo fantasy I would never dare acknowledge in daylight.

Then, as if sensing my presence, the woman slowly lifted her head. Intentionally. Seductively.

Her gaze locked directly onto mine.

Time fractured.

Because those half-lidded eyes, heavy with ecstasy, that flushed face shining with sweat and moonlight... it was me.

She... i... I mean I don’t know if I should refer to the woman as myself or just she... I... was lost in rapture, lips parted on a moan, body undulating between them as waves of pleasure coursed through her..... through me. Every touch, every thrust, every hungry kiss seemed to echo across the impossible distance, sending unwanted sparks of heat racing through my own veins.

Shock slammed into me with brutal force. The forest spun wildly, colors bleeding into a dizzying vortex. My legs buckled. A scream built in my throat but never escaped.

And then...

I woke up.

Gasping desperately for air, I bolted upright in bed, sheets tangled around my sweat-dampened body like restraints.

Liora who was sleeping beside me didn’t even stir, she just slept like nothing in these world bothered her.

My heart was thundered so violently I feared it might shatter my ribs. The dormitory was still cloaked in deep darkness, the steady breathing of the others a stark contrast to my own ragged gasps. For several disorienting moments, I could only sit there, trembling, chest heaving, trying to claw my way back to reality.

The dream clung to me like a second skin. Heat still pulsed low in my belly, an embarrassing, traitorous warmth that refused to dissipate. My skin tingled where phantom hands had touched. Confusion, shame, and a lingering, forbidden curiosity warred inside my chest, sharp and unrelenting.

What in all the hells was that?

A nightmare born of exhaustion and trauma? Or something far more dangerous.... some hidden desire my subconscious had dragged into the light?

And why had it felt so achingly, disturbingly real?