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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: A Vow Etched in the Heart

Morning light filtered gently through the silk curtains, dyeing Lyra's room golden tones. A new day had dawned, but the atmosphere between the sisters was different, denser, burdened with the weight of the previous night and unspoken promises. Lyra, curled up against Eris, opened her white wolf eyes. There was no longer a challenge in them, only a nascent devotion.

"Eris..." Lyra's voice was barely a whisper, tender and exceptionally vulnerable. He bowed and, with renewed determination, murmured against Eris's shoulders, "I love you".

A flash of surprise crossed Eris's face, quickly followed by a slow smile of satisfaction. The Magician of Circle 12, the unstoppable force that had challenged empires and offended cosmic deities, felt an unexpected pang in her hardened heart. She had always been the dominator, the possessor, but this simple statement from Lyra was a different, more intimate victory.

Eris moved, turning to face her sister. His fingers rose to caress Lyra's cheek, and his lips met in a soft, tender kiss, very different from the voracious desire of the night before. This time, it was a dance of two, an exchange of breaths and unspoken promises. Eris devoured Lyra's lips with unexpected tenderness, conveying a love that, although possessive and dark, was undeniably deep. Lyra responded with complete dedication, tangling her hands in Eris's hair, bringing her closer.

In that moment of stillness, Eris's reflections were a whirlwind. He remembered his past life, the arrogant and foolish Lyra whom he had loved from a distance. She remembered the pain she felt when her naive sister married a duchess who only used her, trampling on her pride and leaving her devastated. Although in her previous life Eris had avenged that duchess in ways the universe would never forget, the damage to Lyra had already been done. He couldn't help her, he couldn't protect her then. But now... now it was different.

The Magician of Circle 12 looked at Lyra in her arms. His Lyra. The proud and foolish sister was now hers alone, a canvas on which Eris would capture her twisted devotion. It would make her the most dependent, the most adored. Not only to protect her from a cruel world, but to satisfy Eris's insatiable desire to possess, mold, claim.

Eris hugged her tightly, bringing her even closer to her until there was no space between their bodies. He inhaled the soft aroma of Lyra, a fragrance that was now synonymous with belonging.

"I love you too, my Lyra", Eris whispered, her voice hoarse, with an emotion that rarely allowed it to surface. His words were a mixture of promise and sentence. Not a conventional love, but one forged in domination, possession and an affection so deep that it bordered on madness.

Con un movimiento calculado, Eris deslizó una mano bajo la fina tela del camisón de Lyra. Sus dedos, que antes poseían el poder de destruir estrellas, ahora trazaban una delicada línea sobre el suave pecho de su hermana. Con un leve destello de energía mágica, tan sutil que Lyra apenas lo sintió como un cosquilleo, Eris imprimió una marca invisible en su piel. No era una cicatriz, sino un sello, una firma etérea que solo ellas comprenderían, que resonaría con el vínculo forjado esa noche. La hizo suya, por completo, una marca de propiedad invisible pero inquebrantable.

Lyra se estremeció, no de miedo, sino de una nueva sensación que recorrió su cuerpo, una descarga eléctrica que la aferró a Eris. Sus ojos se abrieron y se encontraron con los de Eris, llenos de una adoración que complació inmensamente el malvado corazón de la Maga.

—You are mine, Lyra —Eris said with a voice that was both a promise and an immutable order—. And I will teach you to worship me as I adore you. No one will hurt you again. No one else will possess you.

The pleasure of possessing Lyra, of hugging her so close, made Eris approach again, this time to kiss the soft, throbbing skin on the mark. This was his love, his creation, his foolish little sister, now his devoted possession. Control was absolute, and for the Magician of Circle 12, whose desire for possession always dictated her path, this was the beginning of her sweetest and most perverse reign.

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