The chamber beyond the arch was circular, walls lined with black obsidian that drank the torchlight. In the center stood a single mirror—tall, ornate, framed in what looked like bone. Its surface swirled with silver mist, refusing to show any reflection.
Stephanie clutched Riley's arm, her nails digging in. "I don't want to go first. Please, God, not me."
But the mirror had other plans.
The mist parted, and images began to form—not in the mirror itself, but in their minds. Stephanie gasped, her eyes going wide as the fantasy flooded her consciousness. It was her deepest secret, the one she'd never told anyone: being completely dominated. Bound. Used. Two men at once, their hands everywhere, no control, no choices, just her body surrendered to their pleasure.
"No," she whispered, shakin
