Ariana POV
Sleep had never been a problem for me.
Hospitals taught you to sleep anywhere In supply closets, at nurses' stations, even upright against a wall if you had to.
But lately, my dreams had turned against me.
They didn't feel like dreams at all.
They felt like memories ones I shouldn't have, of places I'd never been and hands I'd never touched.
Last night, the forest came again.
Moonlight poured through the trees, cold and silver, and I was standing barefoot on wet grass. Two shadows moved toward me tall, silent, almost identical except for their eyes.
One was gold.
The other was black fire.
When they reached me, I should've screamed. I didn't. I only whispered the word that burned in my throat like I'd been saying it my whole life
Alpha.
That's when I woke heart racing, sheets tangled around my legs, the air thick with the ghost of a scent I didn't recognize. Smoke and cedar.
It stayed with me all morning.
By the time I arrived at the clinic, the city was still half-asleep. I liked it that way. The early hours were quiet — no screaming patients, no chaos, no gunshot wounds dropped off like deliveries.
Just calm.
Until he walked in.
Lucien.
I didn't know his name then, but my entire body recognized him before my mind could catch up.
Tall. Controlled. The kind of presence that made every cell in my body tighten. His eyes found me like they'd been waiting for centuries sharp, dark, unreadable.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
"Morning, nurse," he said, his voice low, smooth, and too intimate for a stranger.
My heart stumbled. My mind screamed to move, to look away, to do something.
Instead, I froze.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, my tone clipped, professional. My hands were steady, even though my pulse wasn't.
"Neither should you."
I frowned. "Excuse me?"
Then came that smile slow, cutting, almost cruel. "In my dreams, you were naked."
My cheeks went hot, but anger came faster than embarrassment. "That's sexual harassment."
"Maybe," he murmured, stepping closer. "Or maybe it's prophecy."
The space between us shrank until I could smell him leather, danger, and something deeper I couldn't name.
My hand hovered near the counter, close to the emergency alarm.
"Back off," I whispered.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "You can press that button, sweetheart. But when I come for you again, no one here will stop me."
And then he left.
Just like that.
I stood there shaking from fury, from confusion, from something I refused to name.
By the time I caught my breath, he was gone, but his scent wasn't. It lingered, wrapping around me like a threat I couldn't shake.
That night, I tried to convince myself I wasn't scared.
That he was just another criminal who thought the world owed him attention.
But then came the second dream.
Only this time, there were two of them.
They stood on either side of me mirror reflections, both devastatingly beautiful, both utterly wrong. Their voices overlapped, deep and commanding, as they said the same words.
"You're ours."
When I woke, my neck was burning. I ran to the mirror and froze.
A faint mark bloomed just beneath my collarbone the shape of a crescent moon.
It shimmered faintly, like silver under my skin.
I scrubbed at it until my skin went red, but it didn't fade.
Something inside me whispered that it never would.
The mark wouldn't go away.
No amount of scrubbing, cold water, or denial could erase it. By morning, it glowed faintly, like the soft shimmer of moonlight beneath my skin.
I wore a high-collared shirt to hide it, told myself I was fine, told myself last night was a nightmare born of exhaustion.
But when I walked into the clinic, the air shifted colder, heavier, as if the world itself was waiting for something to happen.
And then it did.
"Good morning, nurse," a deep voice drawled.
I froze.
That voice. That tone. That pull.
My heart kicked painfully in my chest as I turned, already expecting him the same eyes, the same dangerous smirk.
Except… something was off.
This wasn't Lucien.
He was the same height, the same sharp jawline, the same cruel beauty carved into his face — but where Lucien's aura was dark fire and fury, this man radiated ice and silence.
He was colder. Controlled in a way that made my blood stir with equal parts fear and fascination.
"I thought we met yesterday," I said carefully.
His lips curved, faintly amused. "Ah. So my brother made an impression."
Brother.
Twins.
Something twisted deep in my chest a strange mixture of relief and dread.
He extended his hand. "Lysander."
I didn't take it. "What do you want?"
"For now?" His gaze flicked to my throat, lingering there for a heartbeat too long. "To confirm a suspicion."
I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the mark hidden under my collar.
He stepped closer slow, deliberate, the way predators move when they already know you can't run far.
"I can smell him on you," he murmured. "Lucien. His scent clings to your skin."
My stomach dropped. "You're insane."
"Maybe." His hand lifted, fingers brushing the air near my neck. "Or maybe he's not the only one."
Before I could step back, his fingertips grazed the edge of my collar not touching, not quite, but close enough that my skin tingled under the fabric.
The mark pulsed, heat spreading through me like wildfire.
Lysander's eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a near growl. "So it's true. He's not the only one who feels it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I managed to say, even as my body betrayed me — heart racing, breath shallow, knees weak.
He smiled then. Slow. Dangerous. A mirror of his brother, yet entirely his own. "Oh, you will."
Before I could respond, the front door burst open.
Lucien.
The energy between them was electric volatile. Two storms colliding in human form.
"Brother," Lucien said smoothly, though the muscle in his jaw twitched. "You're early."
Lysander didn't look away from me. "You marked her."
"I warned you to stay out of it."
"She's mine too."
The words hit like a thunderclap. My pulse stuttered. "What what the hell are you two talking about?"
Both men turned to me then, and in that instant, I realized I was standing between two predators who weren't fighting over me they were claiming with me.
Two pairs of eyes one gold, one black fire locked on mine, and for the first time in my life, I couldn't decide if I was terrified… or hopelessly drawn to them.
Lucien stepped forward first, his voice low and rough. "You feel it, don't you?"
Lysander added softly, "It's not a choice, sweetheart. It's destiny."
I took a step back, but the air around me seemed to hum, pulling me closer instead of letting me go.
Two voices, one heartbeat.
Two alphas.
One mate.
Me.
And just like that, my carefully controlled world began to crumble.