Selene rose from Irie's bedside with her usual coldness, brushing invisible dust from her lap as if pulling someone from a near-orgasmic coma was just another Thursday.
Her coat swished, the sigils on her thighs pulsing faintly under her skirt, catching the dim candlelight.
"She's stable. For now," she said, her tone clinical, almost bored.
"But if she sleeps again without climaxing for real, the mirror will take her completely."
Aiden stood trembling, his robe damp with sweat, his cock still half-hard from the mirror's dreamspace.
His tongue felt like sandpaper.
"You mean—steal her?"
"Her energy. Her fantasy. Eventually her mind. Her soul, if you want to be dramatic about it."
Selene crossed her arms, her violet eyes flicking to the now-dormant obsidian-framed mirror.
"Sexual identity constructs are strong in Lustcraft. That thing didn't just reflect her fantasy. It shaped it. Fed it. And it's still hungry."
Irie stirred on the bed, her silver hair splayed across the pink silk sheets.
Her thighs trembled beneath the thin blanket, her hips subtly rocking, as if her body were still chasing the climax the mirror had denied her.
Even unconscious, her fingers twitched toward her inner thigh, her lips parting in a soft, needy whimper.
Aiden swayed, unsteady, his pendant humming faintly against his chest. "So we smash the mirror?"
Selene scoffed, her smirk sharp.
"This isn't a fairy tale, virgin. That's not a mirror. It's a Reflection Construct. Shatter it without resolution, and every climax it's stored bleeds back into reality. Including hers."
Aiden blinked, his mind racing. "So what's the cure?"
Selene stared at him, her gaze piercing, calculating.
Then she smiled, slow and wicked. "You."
"What—?" His voice cracked, his face flushing.
"You finish what her fantasy started. Give her what the mirror couldn't." Selene leaned in, her breath hot against his ear, her voice a velvet whisper that made his cock twitch.
"A climax. Real. Deep. Shared. You sync your Purity Eye to her body and reflect her pleasure through yourself. The mirror wants to lead, yes?"
He nodded slowly, his throat tight, the memory of mirror-Irie's "good girl" fantasy burning in his mind.
"Then you lead it," she purred. "Let her fantasize about you—then make the fantasy real. Become her dom. Her trigger. Her first."
Aiden's mouth went dry, his pulse hammering in his groin.
"That's—insane. I barely know her. What if I—what if she—"
Selene brushed her thumb over his neck, smearing a drop of his panic-slick sweat, her touch sending a shiver down his spine.
"She already chose you. Her mirror-self did. Her body did." She tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her eyes.
"Question is, virgin… will you let a cursed object be better at sex than you?"
Aiden's gaze darted to Irie's sleeping form.
Her lips trembled, her breath hitching. Her hand inched closer to her inner thigh, fingers grazing the edge of her slick skin, as if drawn by instinct.
The mirror beside her flickered faintly, its obsidian frame humming with a low, hungry pulse.
Aiden swallowed, his heart pounding, his erection betraying his hesitation.
The pendant's warmth pulsed against his chest, urging him forward.
"I'll do it," he whispered, voice hoarse but resolute.
Selene's smile widened, her eyes glinting like a fox savoring her trap.
"Good boy. Try not to pass out this time."