Aria’s spell sputtered out, the shimmering light dissolving into faint mist.
Her focus, once on mana control, had drifted.
No.
Had been stolen.
Her gaze locked on Isolde.
The silver-haired elf was laughing, shoulders soft, eyes bright, expression glowing in a way Aria had never seen from her before.
Not toward anyone.
Especially not toward him.
And right next to her—
Elion.
Smiling back.
Softly. Warmly.
A smile, Aria had only seen directed at her not long ago.
A strange, twisting heat unfurled inside her chest.
At first, she thought it was irritation, mild annoyance. Something simple. Something harmless.
But it grew.
Thickened.
Curdled.
I don’t like that smile on her face.
The thought hit like a pebble tossed into still water.
But as soon as it entered her mind...
The pebble became a stone, the stone became a boulder, and the boulder cracked the lakebed open.
Her pupils narrowed.
I want to wipe that smile off her face.
She blinked.
The thought startled her; it was short, sharp, vicious.
Even more startling was how quickly it evolved.
I don’t like her. Why is she talking to him like that?
Her breath hitched as her imagination spun, unbidden, unwelcome, yet impossible to silence.
It should be me.
Me standing there.
Me laughing with him
.Me having his attention... not her.
Why her?
Why her of all people!?
Elion had changed. She had noticed it; it was only natural that other people would start to notice as well.
Her thoughts tangled with memory, warm touches, stolen glances, breathless moments in the infirmary, the heated touch of his fingers between her thighs, the kisses, the fondling, the way her heart hammered whenever he so much as said her name...
And realization struck her like lightning.
I’ve fallen for him.
Deeply.
Completely.
Irrevocably.
Her hands trembled.
And I... I don’t like competition.
Her gaze slid back to Isolde.
The elf’s shy smile.
The soft blush.
The way her eyes followed Elion, hanging on every word.
A fragile veneer cracked inside Aria.
Her heart thudded once. Twice.
Then steadied into something cold.
Focused.
Predatory.
I want to wipe her out of existence.
The clarity of the thought chilled her. No, thrilled her.
Her stare sharpened, narrowing like a blade being honed.
She imagined Isolde gone.
Vanished.
Removed.
Easily.
There were... so many ways.
Poison in a drink, undetectable, painless.
A spell cast in the night, silent, invisible.
A dungeon "accident"—monsters were such convenient scapegoats.
A misfired spell in training, tragic, yet believable.
Water and wind... such delicate elements... so easy to turn against their user.
A hundred possibilities bloomed in her mind like poisonous flowers.
And with each one, her chest tightened, but not in regret.
In hunger.
No one would suspect me.
She exhaled slowly, lashes lowering.
No one would even notice she’s gone... except him.
Her eyes drifted to Elion’s face.
His calm smile.
His steady presence.
The warmth she had come to crave.
Her heart squeezed painfully and fiercely.
He should be mine.
Her gaze snapped back to Isolde.
Cold.
Calculating.
Dangerous.
The elf didn’t notice the predator watching her.
Not yet.
Aria’s lips curved into the faintest smile, the sweetest, most serene smile you will ever see, but utterly devoid of warmth.
I need to remove her.
Her pulse quickened.
Her mana stirred.
And I will.
....
Lyra wasn’t the only one approaching.
Across the training hall, Aria’s expression shifted, her dangerous thoughts snapping into place behind smooth, porcelain calm.
Her steps grew elegant, light, perfectly timed.
Her smile looked radiant.
Deceptively radiant.
Perfect.
Peaceful.
And Deadly.
She moved with the grace of a dancer...
At the exact same time, Lyra marched forward like a stalking feline on the hunt.
The two arrived simultaneously.
Isolde blinked in surprise. "Ah, Lyra? And Aria?"
Lyra’s tail flicked, eyes narrowed on Elion like he’d committed a war crime.
Aria’s smile only widened.
"Good afternoon," Aria said sweetly, voice dripping with honey. "You two seem... very lively. Laughing so much."
Isolde brightened. "We were practicing! Elion said something silly, but—"
Lyra cut in, stepping in front of Isolde as though shielding her from a dragon. "He’s distracting you."
Elion raised a brow. "Distracting her? She’s showing me her mana density control."
"You’re talking to her," Lyra said accusingly.
"That too."
Isolde flushed. "L-Lyra—!"
Aria stood beside them, hands clasped neatly, voice warm. "Lyra, dear, don’t be so tense. They’re just having fun."Then she turned her bright eyes toward Elion. "Aren’t you?"
"Mostly laughing at myself," he replied.
Lyra scowled. "Stop flirting with her."
Isolde choked. "W-we were not—!"
Elion blinked. "Flirting? That’s what you call basic conversation?"
Lyra crossed her arms, defensive, tail puffed. "Don’t play dumb! I can tell when someone has intentions!"
Aria tilted her head. "Oh? And what intentions does he have?" Her tone was innocent; the flash in her eyes was not.
Lyra pointed a clawed finger straight at Elion. "Shady ones!"
Elion stared at the paw-like finger. "You’re... accusing me of having shady intentions with a finger that looks like you’re about to open my stomach."
Lyra’s ears turned red. "I—I was just—! That’s not—!"
"Oh, so you don’t want to gut me?" Elion mused. "Good to know."
Lyra spluttered. "Y-you—! You’re twisting my words!"
Aria giggled softly. Too softly.
Isolde covered her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud, and failing.
Elion smirked. "Relax, kitten. I don’t bite."
Lyra went scarlet.
"I—I—KITTEN?!"
"Well, you hissed at me earlier. And now you look like you’re about to scratch me. What else am I supposed to call you?"
"YOU—!" Lyra stomped her foot so hard her tail fluffed into a full bottlebrush. "I’m NOT a kitten!"
"Sure," Elion said mildly. "Lioness, then."
Lyra froze.
Then exploded.