I run blindly through the night, my wolf howling with betrayal so deep it feels like my ribs are cracking. Tears blur my vision as I stumble down the familiar path, my feet knowing the way even when my mind fractures.
The gazebo materializes through my tears—my childhood sanctuary.
I collapse onto the wooden bench, and the sobs tear from my throat in ragged sounds I can't control. The moonstone pendant digs into my palm where I'm clutching it, the edges cutting into my skin.
The pain is sharp, real, grounding me when everything else feels like it's dissolving. I squeeze harder, welcoming the bite of it, needing something to keep me tethered to reality.
How could he? How could she?
The images won't stop replaying—Elijah's hand on Gwendolyn's bare skin, her triumphant smile, the casual way they lay together as if my heart shattering was nothing more than an inconvenience.
But worse than the betrayal is the other truth clawing at my consciousness. Those men from my dreams are real. Standing in that guest room, solid and breathing and looking at me like…
Nothing makes sense. Nothing is as it should be.
Footsteps on wood. Measured. Deliberate. Not trying to surprise me.
I don't look up. Can't. "Please, just leave me alone."
"Not happening."
That voice—rough honey and dark promises. Nathan. One of the twins from my impossible dreams. My hand trembles as I finally raise my head.
They're both here, moving with the coordinated grace of predators who've hunted together all their lives. But there's something different in their approach now.
Careful. Gentle, even.
Nathan sits to my left, not touching, but close enough that his body heat reaches me through the night air. Luca mirrors him on my right, and their combined scents wrap around me like a blanket I didn't know I needed.
"Here." Nathan produces a handkerchief from his pocket.
When I reach for it, our fingers brush, and electricity shoots up my arm. But he doesn't pursue it, just lets me take the cloth and press it to my ruined face.
"Want to tell us what happened?" Luca's voice is different from dinner—softer, without the sharp edge of flirtation. "You don't have to. But sometimes talking helps."
He shifts closer, and I feel the heat radiating from his body. Without thinking, I lean into it, drawn like a moth to flame. My body seems to have its own agenda, separate from my shattered mind.
"Tell us," Nathan says, and it's not quite a request. His hand moves to my lower back without touching, but close enough that I feel the warmth through the thin fabric of my dress. "Who hurt you?"
A bitter laugh escapes me. "What's there to tell? My perfect prince, my beloved Elijah, is currently buried between my baby sister's thighs while I'm supposed to marry him in three days."
A sound rips from Nathan's throat—not quite human, not quite wolf. Pure, protective rage that makes my wolf want to bare her throat in submission.
His hand finally makes contact with my back, fingers splaying possessively, and the touch brands me through the silk.
The silence that follows is absolute. I feel more than see Nathan's hands curl into fists.
"She smiled at me," I whisper, the words falling like glass shards. "Gwendolyn looked right at me and smiled like she'd been waiting for this moment. Like watching me shatter was the sweetest victory she could imagine."
"Breathe." Luca's hand hovers near my shoulder, not quite touching. "Just breathe, princess. In and out."
Princess.
The endearment should sound wrong from a stranger's lips, but somehow it doesn't. Somehow it sounds like coming home.
"My whole life, I did everything right," I continue, surprising myself with the need to purge these words. "Every duty, every expectation. I was the perfect daughter, the perfect sister, the perfect future princess. And for what? So they could—"
My voice breaks. Nathan moves then, just slightly, his shoulder pressing against mine. Such a simple gesture, but it anchors me.
"Look at me." Luca's fingers catch my chin, turning my face toward his. His usual playful demeanor has vanished, replaced by something darker, hungrier. "That bastard of prince didn't deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone touch you."
Those green eyes with their distinctive dark flecks hold mine, intense and knowing. “During the dinner I… I think I felt—”
"We know." Luca shifts closer, his warmth seeping into my other side. "I felt it too."
"But that's not possible…"
"Isn't it?" Nathan's thumb brushes over my knuckles, the touch feather-light but searing. "I know what you felt. The recognition. The pull. The mate bond."
"Mate bonds don't work like that. They don't—"
"They do when they're this strong." Luca's fingers find my chin again, gently turning my face back to his. "Some bonds transcend the physical. They start in dreams, in souls calling to souls across impossible distances."
His thumb traces my bottom lip, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes. His eyes darken at the sound, pupils dilating.
"Have you been dreaming of us?" Nathan's voice is rough velvet against my ear, and I don’t even have the werewithal to be surprised. "How long? Tell me about the dreams, Coralina."
Heat floods my cheeks, my chest, spreads lower. "For months, but— I don't... I can't."
"You can." Luca's thumb presses gently, parting my lips slightly. "We've been dreaming too. Every night. Worshipping one woman. Taking our time with her. Making her scream our names until her voice breaks."
Luca's free hand finds my thigh, fingers playing with the hem of my dress.
"Tell me you don't feel it. This pull between us. Tell me your body doesn't remember our touch even though this is the first time."
I can't. Because every cell in my body is screaming for them, remembering phantom touches from dreams that felt more real than reality.
The air between us has become electric, charged with potential energy waiting to explode. Luca shifts even closer, his thigh pressing against mine, his hand sliding higher on my leg, bunching the fabric.
"Let us show you," he murmurs, his mouth hovering so close to mine I can taste his breath. "Let us worship you the way that fool never could."
Nathan's hand slides up from my back to tangle in my hair, tilting my head back. His lips graze my throat, and I feel the sharp press of canines—not quite breaking skin, but promising.
"You were made for us," he growls against my pulse point. "Every inch of you. Every breath. Every heartbeat."
My hands are shaking, but not from fear. I'm burning from the inside out, my skin too tight, my dress too restrictive. Three months of dreams have prepared my body for this moment, and it's responding without my permission, arching into their touches.
"Please…" I whisper, though I'm not sure if I'm begging them to stop or never stop.
"Say yes," Nathan commands softly, his teeth scraping the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder—the place where a mate mark would go. "Let us show you what you really are."
"What am I?" My voice is barely a breath.
"Ours," Luca answers, finally closing that last millimeter between our mouths.
The kiss destroys me and rebuilds me in the same instant. His lips are soft but demanding, coaxing mine open so his tongue can slide inside, tasting, claiming.
I moan into his mouth, and he swallows the sound greedily, his hand tightening on my thigh. Luca breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down my jaw, my neck, and Nathan immediately claims my mouth, kissing me with barely restrained violence.
Where Luca seduced, Nathan conquers. His tongue dominates mine, his teeth nip at my lips, and I'm drowning in the taste of him—dark spice and possession.
But then, cutting through the haze like ice water, a voice rings out.
"Stop this."
The words are absolute, carrying a command that makes both twins immediately pull back. I blink, disoriented, as the stranger from the festival—the one who gave me the pendant—steps into the gazebo.
Silver-grey eyes find mine, and something in them makes my breath catch all over again.
"She's betrothed," he says to the twins, though his gaze stays on my face. "Or have you both forgotten how to behave with unmated she-wolves?"
Nathan looks like he wants to argue, jaw tight. Luca squeezes my hand once more before reluctantly releasing it. Then they're gone, and I'm alone with the stranger whose presence feels like both danger and sanctuary.
He offers his hand. "Come. Let me take you home."