Isolde's heart fluttered traitorously.
"…What?" she whispered, voice barely audible.
"Nothing." His smile softened. "It's just… nice. Talking with you like this."
Her breath stilled.
He meant it.
She knew he did.
And that simple sincerity, gods, it disarmed her more than any spell.
"…It's nice for me too," she said quietly.
She hadn't meant to say it aloud.
But once she did, she didn't regret it.
Because it was true.
Talking with him felt…
Refreshing.
He wasn't like the other students: pompous, overconfident, and shallow.
He wasn't trying to impress her or curry favor.
He was just...Himself.
A little awkward.
A little sharp-tongued.
A bit of a pervert.
But earnest.
Free.
And she liked that.
She liked him like this.
"Isolde."
His voice pulled her back. She met his gaze again.
"You're trembling," he said gently.
"Huh—?"
He nodded at her hand.
She didn't realize it, she hadn't even felt it, but her fingers were shaking slightly around her mana formation.
"I, um—sorry. I must've gotten distracted again."
"By me?"
She turned bright red. "…Maybe."
His smile widened.
"We can take a break if you want."
"N-no! I'm fine. Just—just give me a moment."
She took a slow breath.
Her heart was still racing.
Talking with him feels… good.
Too good.
Dangerously good.
She swallowed hard.
If he really has changed like this…I wonder what else he's hiding.
....
On the far side of the hall, perched on a railing like it was the most natural place in the world, Lyra observed everything with slit-pupil precision.
Her fluffy tail twitched in irritation.
Her ears? Even worse.
Flicking. Twitching. Tilting.
Each movement was a clear sign of a brewing storm that only other beastkin would recognize.
She narrowed her emerald-green eyes.
There they were.
Isolde and Elion.
Standing just a little too close.
Talking just a little too comfortably.
And Isolde… smiling.
Smiling in that way.
Lyra's claws slid out halfway before she forced them back.
I don't like this.
Not one bit.
She leaned forward slightly, straining her ears.
She didn't need to strain; her hearing was absurdly good, but she wanted to justify the growing scowl on her face.
"…It's just nice. Talking with you like this," Elion's voice drifted over.
Lyra's eye twitched.
Isolde's soft answer followed: "…It's nice for me too."
Lyra's tail puffed.
No. No. No. NO.
Since when?
Since WHEN! Did Isolde start speaking to him like they were old childhood friends?
Since when did she look at someone, especially a BOY, with that kind of soft expression?
Isolde Velora, future prodigy, refined, elegant, infuriatingly innocent, was many things.
But easily swayed by boys?
No.
Absolutely not.
She's not supposed to look at guys like that. Especially not him. Not my Isolde!
Her mind hissed the words with a kind of irrational ferocity unique to an overprotective catkin.
She crossed her arms, tail swishing violently enough that a nearby student ducked, fearing a spell attack.
Her green eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint.
Elion.
Elion, of all people.
Yes, he was good-looking, annoyingly so. Yes, he had muscles now, also annoying. Yes, he now held himself with a quiet confidence, exceptionally annoying.
But still.
Still!
He was Elion!
The gloomy one.
The quiet one.
The weak Elion.
The unassuming, forgettable one.
Not—
Not someone Isolde should be smiling at like that.
Lyra's ears flattened.
"This is bad," she muttered under her breath. "This is very, very bad."
Her claws slid out again.
"He's dangerous."
She didn't know why she felt that.
But she did.
Something about him felt… off. Changed.
Different in a way that her instincts didn't like.
A predator hiding behind a gentle smile.
She could sense it.
Hear it in the undertone of his voice.
Smell it in the subtle shift of his presence.
Her tail lashed.
"I can't let this continue," she hissed.
Elion leaned in slightly, saying something quietly, something that made Isolde blush, ducking her head shyly.
Lyra's mouth fell open.
"NO.NO, NO, NO!"
Students near her jumped.
"She's getting distracted!" she whispered fiercely. "Distracted by a guy! My Isolde! MY Isolde, who hates romance novels and scowls when guys confess to her!"
She cracked her knuckles, eyes narrowing to slits.
"I have to do something."
Her voice dropped dangerously low, more growl than whisper.
"I'm not letting some… some mysteriously transformed, handsome weirdo sink his claws into her."
She leaped off the railing with silent grace, her pleated skirt riding up her waist, flashing her tight ass covered in tight black briefs, and landing like a literal cat on all fours before straightening.
Her tail swayed slowly behind her
The calm before a storm.
"I'll watch him."
Her eyes glinted.
"And if he tries anything. Anything at all..."
Her claws slid out with a satisfying shhk!
"I'll make sure he regrets ever talking to her. Breathing near her."
She started walking toward them. Steps silent. Claws sharp. Expression deadly.
Whatever miraculous changes Elion had undergone…
He was about to meet the immovable wall that was a jealous catkin best friend.