Mirror-Irie's lips hovered above his, not kissing, but teasing—hot, possessive, like she owned the moment and wanted him to beg for release.
Her nude body pressed closer, thighs straddling his hips, her slick heat grazing his robe, sending shivers through his straining cock.
Her violet eyes, heart-shaped pupils glowing, locked onto his, burning with a hunger that wasn't entirely hers.
Aiden's Purity Eye pulsed so violently it hurt, a white-hot throb behind his right eye.
Gold streaked through his vision, stretching every second into eternity.
He felt every detail.
The feverish heat of her thighs, the shimmer of her sweat, the faint tremble in her breath as she moaned—not aloud, but in his head.
Her fantasy was syncing with his thoughts, invading his mind.
With sudden horror, he realized she wasn't riding a mirror-him anymore.
She was riding him—not his body, but his mind, climaxing off the idea of him surrendering to her.
The mirror bound him not with ribbons, but with fantasy, its silken threads coiling through his thoughts, tightening around his desire.
I'm going to black out, he thought, dizzy, his cock aching, his vision swimming.
My Eye wasn't meant to handle…
CRACK.
A slash of red lightning tore through the mirror realm, shattering the haze.
Aiden gasped as the world tilted, like a painting sliding off a wall.
Through the gash, stepping barefoot over collapsing mirror shards and flickering sigils, came Selene.
Her violet eyes burning like frozen stars.
Her coat flared behind her like dark wings, parted at the chest, revealing one pale, perfect breast already slick with silver runes that pulsed with internal light.
One gloved hand gripped a crimson dagger carved with spiraling runes, glinting with lethal intent.
The other hand cupped her breast, a single drop of glowing milk leaking from her nipple—ritual fluid, charged with anti-reflection magic, shimmering with raw Lustcraft power.
"Tsk," she said, her gaze flicking to Aiden, pinned beneath the writhing mirror-Irie.
"I told you not to dive without me, virgin."
She didn't wait for his stammered reply.
Selene slashed the dagger through the air between them.
The silken ribbons around Aiden's limbs burst into golden flame, dissolving into smoke.
Mirror-Irie gasped, her body cracking like glass, shattering upward into petals of light that flickered and faded.
"No!" Aiden lunged, grasping at the vanishing fragments—instinct, not logic—but the mirror world collapsed around him, reality flooding in like cold water.
Selene grabbed his wrist, her grip firm, and yanked him up and out.
He tumbled across the hardwood floor of the real Dorm C-12, coughing, shivering, his robe damp with sweat, his erection painfully evident.
The warmth was gone, replaced by a sterile chill.
The obsidian-framed mirror stood silent, its surface unlit, no longer humming.
Irie lay unconscious on her bed, silver hair splayed across the pink silk sheets, her chest rising and falling in a slow, post-climax rhythm, her nude body glistening faintly in the candlelight.
Selene crouched beside him, her skirt riding up to reveal glowing sigils on her thigh, her scent—roses, sweat, and dark honey—cutting through his daze.
"You saw it all, didn't you?" she asked, her voice low, probing.
Aiden nodded numbly, his throat tight, the memory of mirror-Irie's moans still echoing in his skull.
"She's caught in a climax loop," Selene muttered, checking Irie's pulse with clinical precision.
"The mirror's been stealing her orgasms before she can reach them, looping her own fantasies back at her. Each time, she gets closer. Each time, the mirror feeds more."
Aiden's voice cracked, hoarse with guilt and arousal. "She… she thinks I'm the one doing it."
Selene turned, her violet eyes piercing, a faint smirk curling her lips.
"You are now."