Sleep didn't just take them; it knocked them out cold. After hours of Vitae-fueled marathon sex that left the massive bed looking like a grenade had gone off in a silk factory, they didn't just drift off; they crashed hard.

And so, they slept right through dawn. They slept through the morning alarms. They even slept through the desperate, angry beeping of Ingrid's and Genevieve's wrist comms warning them about the Lyceum. Hell, even Zaeryn slept through his own internal clock.

They were dead to the world, just a tangled pile of satisfied limbs buried under a hastily grabbed comforter.

At the academy.

The same morning, the Lyceum's grand concourse was already bustling. Students in their crisp, dark uniforms moved in streams, their voices echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings. Morticia, however, walked at her own unhurried pace, her datapad held loosely in one hand as she sipped a steaming cup of synth-kaf.

She spotted Jyn before Jyn spotted her.

Jyn was lounging on the wide, crystalline steps that led up to the combat training wing, pointedly ignoring the flow of traffic. She wasn't in a standard uniform.

She'd customized her uniform, pairing the regulation pleated skirt, worn just a bit shorter than protocol allowed, with ripped synth-mesh leggings and heavy, platform combat boots. Her black synth-leather jacket was definitely not regulation. Her homey blonde hair was tied back in a messy knot, and she had one boot propped up on the stair above, her datapad resting on her knee as she idly scrolled.

She looked bored, rebellious, and undeniably stunning. A few students gave her impressed looks, while others simply rolled their eyes.

Morticia approached, her own quiet presence a sharp dissimilarity to Jyn's. Unlike her friend, Morticia liked to follow protocol and looked professional,"You look like you're about to fall asleep sitting up."

Jyn looked up. Morticia stood at the bottom of the steps, a small, amused smile on her lips. She looked as immaculate as ever, her own uniform crisp and precise, not a single hair out of place.

"Mornin'," Jyn mumbled, stretching her arms over her head with a groan. "Yuna made me re-watch the Royal Reckoning, last night. Again. She's convinced Lady Vespera is a deep-cover agent for the rebels."

Morticia chuckled, sitting on the step below Jyn. "She's not wrong to be suspicious. The writing's been hinting at a betrayal in the Royal Guard for weeks."

"Yeah, well, I'm over it," Jyn sighed, dismissing her slate. She turned her full attention to her friend, her eyes lighting up with fresh energy. "Speaking of betrayals and drama, how was the party last night? You ditched us for it. Was it worth it?"

A slow, knowing smile spread across Morticia's face. The kind of smile that meant secrets had been spilled. "First," Morticia corrected, her voice calm, "it wasn't a party. It was just a small hangout at Ingrid's. And second… yes. It was definitely worth it."

"Oh yeah?" Jyn leaned forward, her interest piqued. "What happened? Did Leia finally snap and try to incinerate someone?"

"No, though she came close," Morticia said, her eyes twinkling. "Because Zaeryn was there and he tried to get on her nerves."

"Oh, right, I remember Ingrid invited him. I bet he was bored."

"Honestly, Jyn, the whole night was… fascinating. We ended up playing Truth or Dare."

Jyn's interest was definitely piqued. "Truth or Dare? With him? You're kidding me." She slumped back, the picture of regret. "And I missed it to watch a holo-drama? Gods, Yuna owes me. That sounds like it was completely amped."

"'Amped' doesn't begin to cover it," Morticia said, her voice dropping slightly. "That wasn't even the main event."

She leaned in, her usual clinical detachment giving way to a conspiratorial whisper. "Before that, he let us all kiss him…." she let that drop like a bomb, before continuing, "And then, Ingrid dared Meira to let Zaeryn… well, you know. Lick her breasts."

Jyn's eyes went wide. "She what?"

"In front of everyone," Morticia confirmed, her lips twitching with the memory. "And he did. Meira was a mess, she looked like she might explode from the pleasure, and Ryla looked like she was about to faint just from watching."

"You are lying," Jyn gasped, her hand flying to her chest. A spark of something, envy, maybe, flashed in her eyes. "She let him do that? In the lounge?"

"Mmhmm. And then Meira dared Ingrid to do the same thing, except Ingrid was expecting it and she even did more than that." Morticia reminisced for a second. "I think you didn't exaggerate when you said he is a good kisser."

Jyn just stared at her, speechless. "I wasn't. Is that why you kissed him? To see if I was telling the truth?" She shook her head, a mix of awe and pure, unfiltered jealousy. "I kiss him once in the cafeteria and the whole academy acts like the world's ending, and you guys are holding... advanced practical studies... without me? I am so pissed I missed that."

Morticia laughed softly. "We'll be sure to invite you to the next 'study session'." She glanced around the now-busier concourse, her gaze scanning the faces. "Speaking of our favorite anomaly, where is he? I figured he'd be with you."

Jyn pulled out her own comm, checking the time. "He's not here yet," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.

Morticia sighed, standing up and brushing off her immaculate skirt. "Well, he'd better show. I want a front-row seat for his rematch with Leia today."

Jyn's head snapped up. "Oh, about that, are they really going to fight today?"

"Oh yes, they agreed on it yesterday," Morticia's gaze glinted. "Today, with no fail. I think Leia…."

"Talking about me?" Before Morticia could finish her sentence, someone interrupted her.

The voice was sharp, familiar, and laced with its usual cold confidence. Leia stood a few feet away, her crimson hair pulled into a tight braid, her uniform immaculate. She looked like she'd already run five miles and sparred for an hour.

She strode toward them, her steel-gray eyes scanning the steps, clearly searching for someone. "Where is he?" she demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Where's the anomaly?"

"He's not here yet," Jyn replied, matching Morticia's earlier observation.

Morticia added calmly, "Class hasn't started. He's probably just running late."

Leia let out a sharp, dismissive scoff. "Running late? Or running scared?" She crossed her arms, her posture radiating mock impatience. "He'd better show up," she said, her smirk growing. "Though I fully expect him to skip today. He knows exactly what's waiting for him if he does."

Jyn shot to her feet, her own fiery temper flaring. "He's not afraid of you, Leia. That's impossible."

"Oh, please," Leia sneered.

"He's not!" Jyn insisted, sitting back down but still facing her. "Everyone saw how he handled himself yesterday. He held his own against you, and he's not even trained." She tilted her chin up defiantly. "He might actually win this time."

Leia just scoffed again, a cold, pitying sound. "Win? Against me? Don't be delusional." She looked past Jyn, her gaze sweeping the concourse one last time before settling back on her. "Just let him get here."

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of genuine annoyance in their depths. "And you?" she said, pointing a finger at Jyn, then flicking it toward Morticia. "You're just as much to blame as whoever is feeding his ego, making him think he's some kind of hero."

A cold, predatory smile touched Leia's lips. "Thanks to all of you, when I put him on the floor today, I'll make sure the lesson is even more painful."

Back at Ingrid's house,

Around late morning, the first thing that finally pierced that heavy fog wasn't light, but noise.

The bedroom door whooshed open a little too fast, followed by the sharp, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of heels on the polished floor.

Zaeryn groaned, his throat dry as a desert. He felt heavy, drained in the best way possible, and didn't want to move an inch. Ingrid was laying slightly on his chest, her arm thrown over him like he was a body pillow. Genevieve was curled up on his other side, a leg hooked casually over his thighs.

"Goddess Ingrid. Why are there discarded clothes in the lounge? And what is that smell in your room? It's the same one in the lounge. It smells... strange." A voice said, pausing. A sigh echoed in the room. "I knew allowing you to use the house to host your friends was a bad idea. Why is the lounge room a mess!"

The voice was sharp, familiar, and definitely not happy. It sounded like Ingrid, just older and way less fun.

"And on top of all that, can you explain to me why Director Sorina is pinging me with a Tier-One priority alert that you, Genevieve, and a new student didn't show up after your little 'hang out'?"

Ingrid barely stirred. She just made a muffled, annoyed noise into Zaeryn's collarbone and tightened her grip, trying to use him as a human shield against the noise.

Zaeryn, however, was trying to understand why the voice in his dream was yelling at him. He peeled one eye open, realizing with a jolt that it wasn't a dream at all. Someone was actually in the room. His heart gave a confused little kick-start that had nothing to do with arousal.

Standing at the foot of the bed was a woman who had to be Ingrid's mother. She was tall, imposing, and dressed in a high-collared suit that screamed 'boss.' She had the same stormy gray eyes as her daughter, but right now, they were narrowed in pure 'mom-rage'.

She stepped forward, her patience clearly gone. "Ingrid, get up!"

When Ingrid just groaned and snuggled deeper, the woman grabbed the edge of the comforter in one fist... and ripped it away from all three of them.

A rush of cool air hit their naked skin, followed instantly by the harsh glare of the mid-morning sun.

"I said, get up! You are jeopardizing your—"

When her eyes locked on the people sleeping on the bed, her furious tirade died instantly in her throat.

Silence slammed into the room as the reality of what she was actually looking at finally registered. It wasn't just her daughter lazing about. It was her daughter, another top female student... and a naked guy. Right in her daughter's bed.

Zaeryn froze, fully awake now. He was sprawled on his back, totally exposed in the unforgiving sunlight. It was way too late to cover up; the damage was done.

He watched as the woman's stormy eyes shifted downward. They weren't looking at his face anymore. They were locked lower, fixed with widened, stunned disbelief on his groin, on his cock.

Even relaxed after a marathon night, what she was seeing was... biologically impossible by this world's standards. It was thick, heavy, and definitely didn't match the normal male stereotype she was used to.

Her jaw actually dropped a little. The 'mom-rage' on her rigid face short-circuited, replaced by pure, fundamental shock.

"By the Goddess..." she whispered, the words slipping out on a breathless exhale.

The shift in tone finally stirred Ingrid. She blinked blearily against the harsh light, lifting her messy head from Zaeryn's chest. She squinted at Zaeryn's rigid form, then followed his gaze to the foot of the bed.

She didn't gasp. She didn't scramble. She just blinked slowly, still half-asleep.

"Oh," Ingrid mumbled, her voice scratchy and completely lacking urgency. "Hi, Mom."

The woman's gaze snapped from Zaeryn's groin to her daughter's far-too-casual face.

"Ingrid. What is this?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet, her confusion warring with her anger. "And who... is this male?"

At this time, Genevieve also stirred awake to see that they had a fourth person in the room. She turned around, laying on her back facing Ingrid's mom. "Good…."

"Genevieve, please shut up!" Ingrid's mother said, not exactly angry but disappointed and annoyed, her voice cracking with a mix of disbelief. Her gaze snapped from Zaeryn's groin to her daughter's far-too-casual face. "Ingrid, what's going on here?"

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