[ Lyra Blackthorn's POV ]
Lyra Blackthorn had always known that Durmstrang was a place of secrets. Dark, cold, and isolated—it was the perfect breeding ground for ambition, the kind of ambition that led people down dangerous paths. But even in a place filled with shadows, Lyra could feel the growing darkness that clung to Dorian. The weight of the dark magic he had been exploring had shifted something inside him. She had spent months trying to keep him tethered, hoping that he wouldn't be consumed by the power he so desperately craved.
But now, there was another obstacle in her way: Kara Albrecht.
Kara had been circling Dorian for weeks, like a vulture waiting for its moment to strike. Lyra had seen it, seen the hunger in Kara's eyes, the way she whispered in Dorian's ear about power, about letting go of the control Lyra had fought so hard to help him maintain. Kara was poison, and Lyra could no longer stand by and let her sink her claws deeper into Dorian's mind.
It had to end. Tonight.
Lyra moved through the dark halls of Durmstrang with purpose, her cloak drawn tight around her as the cold air brushed against her skin. The dungeons were particularly deserted at this hour, most students long asleep in their beds. But Lyra knew Kara wasn't like most students. She was ambitious, driven, and far too comfortable in the darkness.
Lyra's hand gripped her wand tightly as she descended the final set of stairs leading into the lowest level of the dungeons. The air here was heavy, thick with old magic and the remnants of dark rituals long forgotten. Kara had been hiding out in these lower chambers for days, no doubt plotting her next move. Lyra wasn't going to give her the chance.
As she stepped into the central chamber, the faint flicker of a torch revealed Kara standing at one of the stone altars, her back turned. Lyra's steps were silent, her presence almost ghostly in the dim light, but Kara spoke without turning.
"Lyra Blackthorn," Kara's voice echoed in the empty chamber, a smirk evident in her tone. "I knew you'd come."
Lyra's heart raced, but her face remained calm, expressionless. She had prepared herself for this. "I thought it was time we had a little chat," she said, her voice soft but carrying across the cold stone walls.
Kara turned slowly to face her, her eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight. "A chat? How very polite of you. But I don't think you came here for conversation, did you?"
Lyra stepped forward, her grip on her wand tightening, though she kept it at her side. "No. You've been trying to get inside Dorian's head, and I'm here to stop you."
Kara let out a low laugh, her gaze narrowing. "Dorian doesn't need you to protect him. He's stronger than you realize. You're the one holding him back, Lyra. You don't want him to be the man he's meant to be."
Lyra's pulse quickened, but her voice remained steady. "You don't understand him. You're trying to make him into something he's not."
Kara took a step closer, her smirk widening. "And what are you doing, exactly? Playing the devoted friend? The one who gets to guide him, keep him close? Face it, Lyra—you're just as possessive as I am. But unlike you, I'm not afraid to push him to his limits. To make him powerful."
Lyra's breath caught in her throat, but she didn't let Kara see the crack in her composure. Possessive. The word hung in the air between them, a sharp reminder of the quiet feelings Lyra had kept hidden for so long. She cared about Dorian—more than she cared to admit. But this wasn't about that. It was about keeping him safe. From Kara. From the darkness that threatened to consume him.
"You don't understand," Lyra said, her voice low and dangerous. "Dorian isn't like you. He doesn't need to lose himself to power. He's stronger than you'll ever be."
Kara's smirk faltered for a moment, and Lyra could see the flicker of anger in her eyes. "You think you know him, don't you? But Dorian will always choose power. You're just a distraction, a weakness he'll grow tired of."
The words stung, but Lyra pushed the pain aside. She took a step forward, her eyes locked on Kara. "Maybe. But that's not your decision to make."
Kara's expression darkened, her wand slipping into her hand with practiced ease. "You think you can protect him from this? From what he's destined to become?"
Lyra raised her wand in response, her heart pounding. This wasn't about words anymore. Kara wasn't going to stop, and Lyra wasn't going to let her get any closer to Dorian. Not tonight. Not ever.
"You've already lost, Lyra," Kara sneered, her wand pointed directly at her. "Dorian's already mine."
Lyra's eyes narrowed, and her voice came out in a whisper, laced with resolve. "Not tonight."
Before Kara could react, Lyra moved—fast, faster than Kara had expected. Her wand flicked through the air, sending a blast of magic toward Kara's chest. Kara managed to deflect the spell with a quick flick of her own wand, but Lyra was relentless, her spells coming one after another with ruthless precision.
Kara was skilled, there was no doubt about that, but she had underestimated Lyra's resolve. The fight was short, brutal, and one-sided. Lyra's magic tore through Kara's defenses like a knife through paper, each spell hitting its mark with deadly accuracy.
Kara tried to counter, but her attempts were sluggish, her reactions delayed. The confidence she had wielded so easily moments before now crumbled as she realized she was outmatched. Lyra's magic was fierce, fueled by something deeper than anger, something Kara had failed to see.
Fear flashed across Kara's face as she stumbled backward, her wand falling from her hand as she collided with the cold stone wall behind her. Lyra advanced slowly, her eyes locked on Kara's, the tip of her wand glowing with dark energy.
"Lyra, wait—" Kara gasped, her voice trembling, but it was too late.
"No." Lyra's voice was cold, devoid of the warmth she so often showed around Dorian. "You've had your chance."
With one final flick of her wand, Lyra sent a pulse of dark magic straight at Kara. The spell hit her square in the chest, and Kara's body stiffened, her eyes wide with shock. For a moment, there was silence, and then Kara crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Lyra stood over her body, her heart racing, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She stared down at Kara's still form, the realization of what she had done slowly sinking in. She had killed before—this wasn't the first time she had taken a life—but this was different. This wasn't a random foe or an enemy on the battlefield. This had been personal.
It wasn't just about protecting Dorian.
It had been about more than that.
Lyra closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to steady herself. She had done what needed to be done. Kara had been a threat—one she couldn't allow to linger. But as she stood there, her wand still humming with residual magic, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed.
Something in her had shifted.
Possessive. The word echoed in her mind, a cold reminder of the truth she had been avoiding. She wasn't just trying to protect Dorian—she wanted to keep him close, to make sure no one else could influence him, no one else could take him away from her.
Was that so wrong?
Lyra knelt down beside Kara's body, her hand trembling slightly as she retrieved the fallen wand and placed it inside her cloak. She couldn't afford any evidence to remain. No one could know what had happened here. Not yet.
As she rose to her feet and turned to leave the dungeon, Lyra cast one last glance at the lifeless form of Kara Albrecht, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Dorian was hers. She had made sure of that.
And she would protect him from anyone who tried to take him away.