Midnight Chains: a Dark Elf's Possessive Love
With a yell, he surged forward, shadows binding her wrists for a heartbeat, just long enough to close the distance.
She twisted, broke the spell with a hiss, and struck his arm with fire. Leather smoked but held; Nyxios grinned, the pain only fueling his ferocity. As the fight became harder, Nyxios’ smile grew.
On the periphery, Thalana wound her whip through Lysandra’s defenses, scoring more hits. Lysandra’s magic was trickier, built for stealth. Each time Thalana pinned her, Lysandra shifted positions, trying to flank the archivist and go for the kill. But Thalana anticipated, always one step ahead, her whip controlling the tempo.
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