Chapter 112: How ‘nothing’ looks.

July 18 2026, 9:47am.

Nyx’ara dragged the large blouse over her head as she walked around her room on her bare feet. The air was unreasonably cold this morning but despite this, she still walked around in her damp clothes, damp hair, and cold feet.

On one hand, she held a book which she read— or more like memorized— while on the other hand, she held a steaming cup of coffee which she sipped from at intervals.

The ceramic cup burned at the tips of her fingers, sending warmth down her spine. But for some reason, she loved the feeling as it was a breath of fresh air, compared to the array of sensations working up her spine.

She had woken up with a start this morning from an erotic dream of the quadruplets. By the time her eyes peeled open, she realized that for one of the first times in her life, she was wet.

Wet wet.

Her clothes hung on her body, sticking in places that you would’ve never imagined and her nipples thrummed wildly like they had been sucked on the entire night.

The sensation was one of the reasons she had jumped into the bathroom first thing in the morning, and now, as she walked around the house, reading from her book, she could not help but notice the way her mind kept wandering off to her wild dreams.

She could still recollect the way their fingers skimmed over her skin and the way they turned her around. When her cup burned her fingers one more time, she vaguely remembered the heat of their fingers against her back.

A hand had seized one of her breasts, a mouth fastened on the tip of the other, and goddess, the pleasure that had sent shooting to her spine had been so immense that suddenly she lost her balance and fell backward. But she never hit the ground.

She wondered whose arms had supported her but she had no idea!

And then they opened her legs and gently spread her lips. Nyx’ara’s face burned at the recollection of the way hair grazed the insides of her thighs.

She had heard them saying that they would have to make her kneel, and this they did.

She had been extremely uncomfortable in that position, especially because they forbade her to bring her knees together and because her arms pinioned behind her forced her to lean forward. Then they let her rock her weight back a bit, so that she was half-sitting on her heels and half leaning into them.

The last thing she had seen before jerking out of that feverishly hot dream was the sharp V-lines of their waists, their well-toned abs, and the way light dark hairs scattered across the length of their chests and stomach, disappearing down and down into the band of their pants.

She gulped.

The memory made her face heat up and hell, she wanted— no needed— to feel them in real life, the way she did in her dreams.

She wanted to understand why she felt so drawn to them like magnets to metal.

Her hand dreamily pressed against her forehead while cold sweat broke out on her skin, and then—

"Luna..." a voice slipped into her head, snapping her out of her reverie.

She glanced up quickly and found a young maiden standing by the door. Behind her was Eloise, the old woman whom Nyx’ara liked more than she would care to admit.

Her face flushed upon the realization that they had walked in on her day-dreaming about her husbands and in a bid to hide her embarrassment, she quickly dropped the cup of coffee, accidentally spilling some on her fingers, she then placed her books on a nearby table then took a step away from the table.

She clasped her shaky hands behind her back and smiled softly. Fakely. "Is th-there a problem?"

Eloise looked from her flushed face to the books on her table. She also remembered that this was only the first day since the end of Luna Nyx’ara’s treatment which had ended the day before, and her face instantly twisted into a frown.

"No, there isn’t." She answered, sounding annoyed. "The alphas asked for you to join them for breakfast and Madeline is here to tidy up your room."

At the sound of Eloise’s words, Nyx’ara stilled and her face colored a wild shade of red which was so bright, it rivalled a tomato.

Her lips immediately went dry and her body vibrated with tension. And bloody moon goddess, the thought of sharing a table with the same men that had plagued her dreams and her morning did not sit right with her so she frowned.

"No."

Eloise’s eyes travelled from her hair to her face. She noticed that the woman’s eyes had lingered on her for a moment too long.

She briefly wondered if there was something on her face but before she could ask that, Eloise drawled; "What do you mean, Luna?"

She hated that she was being referred to as Luna. She hated that everyone always stared at her like she was a ticking time bomb.

She also hated that even now, even after informing the quadruplets that she was not the one responsible for their sister’s death, they have refused to grant her freedom.

Hell, they had also refused to let their people know the truth. Hence, to everyone else, she was still a murderer.

"I-I am not hungry." She rasped.

Eloise barely batted her lashes at her words. She crossed her arms over her chest and said; "And you are not fully recovered so you should eat whether you feel hungry or not."

Once again, her eyes dragged to something on Nyx’ara’s head before she turned and began to walk away, forcing the latter to follow after her even though she did not want to.

Their footsteps echoed through the corridor as they made their way to the dining room downstairs, and the closer they approached, the more anxious Nyx’ara grew as she could not stop imagining the way the bodies of her husbands had molded perfectly against hers as if they belonged together in her dreams.

She could not help thinking about the heat of their lips on her skin...

Eloise pushed the large doors open moments later and Nyx’ara’s breath left her lungs in one instant when she saw all four brothers already waiting at the dining table, looking as striking as always... but that was not all.

They were dressed in the same clothes from her dreams!

Her heart began to hammer against her chest and her legs shook as she made her way toward them. However, she had only taken a few steps forward when she noticed the other person seated at the extreme end of the table.

Berlin.

Her face fell.

Not now. Not now. Not now.

She contemplated turning away and leaving with an excuse, but just as the thoughts crossed her mind, someone— about three people—asked at once:

"What did you do to your hair?"

She paused and frowned. "Nothing."

"Well that does not look like nothing to me." Rhys bit in, stunning her further.